Animus Vox: Lessons
by ChaosMadnessHavocCoffee
Summary: At Abstergo, Desmond was entering the Animus again when something goes wrong. How can Altair know he has control over him if the Syrian is only a genetic memory? What happens when Altair tries to push him away? Rated M for violence, crude language, and mature/sexual themes. Is a little slash. Desmond/M!OC. All other pairings are canon. Prequel to Animus Vox: Reborn.
1. Pax et Securitas

Chapter One: _Pax et Securitas_

"All right, Desmond." Dr. Vidic motioned for Desmond to enter the Animus. "Just like yesterday. Let's try to keep you moving."

"Whatever you say, doc." Desmond sighed as he slid into the Animus, trying to relax as the machine powered up.

A few flashing lights and loading moments found Desmond in ancient Jerusalem as Altair, master assassin sent to kill Robert de Sable finally. After so many days in the Animus, he had gotten quite accustomed to moving through it, so he knew immediately something was wrong when he went to take a step and couldn't. Panic erupted in his chest like a flurry of butterflies. He froze, ears straining to hear and eyes wide. The words to follow his reaction made his skin prickle.

"You will command my body no more, demon."

Desmond's throat felt dry and his skin felt as if a million flies were crawling over it. He flinched, but Altair struggled against him.

"No, demon!" Altair snarled. "I will not let you command me any longer."

"W-wait." Desmond spoke out, finally realizing what was going on. "This is impossible! You're only a memory."

"What?" Altair seethed, anger flaring up inside his body enough to send a cold sweat down Desmond's spine. "I am not a memory, demon! Not yet! I will not permit you control over my body any longer! Leave!"

Pain erupted across Desmond's body, scorching like fire licking at his flesh from the inside. He screamed, every muscle growing taut before he was overtaken by random spasms.

His back arched up before crashing back down upon the Animus. Despite his mind being lost in Jerusalem, he could still feel the table upon which he lay. A pulse throbbed painfully inside his skull as if his brain was trying to break loose. He screamed again, agonized and at a loss for what to do.

* * *

"Abort!" Vidic yelled at his assistant. "Abort!"

"I can't!" Lucy shouted back, flabbergast and bewildered. "He...he's not in control! The Animus refuses to abort him! He'd die!"

"HELP ME!" Desmond screamed. "STOP! STOP! ALTAIR! STOP! I CAN'T! YOU'RE KILLING ME!"

Lucy was trying everything she knew, every passcode and bypass she could remember in a vain attempt to abort from the machine, but the Animus refused her at every turn. She let out a growl of irritation, eyes flicking over to the squirming body of Desmond as Vidic stared on helplessly.

"NO!" Desmond continued to shriek. "ALTAIR! I AM YOUR DESCENDANT!"

Abruptly, he fell still upon the table and Lucy gazed at him in disbelief, making sure first he was breathing, before her eyes focused upon the screen once more.

"You are my what?" Altair hissed as Desmond fought to get his breathing under control.

"Your...descendant. You...are...my...ancestor."

"This is madness."

"No." Desmond gasped. "No. Believe me...at first, I thought...I thought it was, but it isn't. It's true. You have to help me...please."

"Help you?" Altair's voice contained suspicion.

"I...Templars. There are Templars keeping me hostage. They're...they want one of your memories. They want it really bad. I...wait...you can understand me?"

"You are speaking my tongue, are you not?"

"Well..." Desmond frowned. "Never mind. Look. I don't know what to do, but I have to do this. If I don't, they'll kill me. Just...let me stay here...a little longer...and then I'll go and I won't...I won't bother you again."

"You say Templars are keeping you and they are making you...search for one of my memories?"

"Y-yes."

"Then I cannot assist you."

"Wait!" Desmond yelped, afraid of the immense pain again. "I...just...just a little help. Please. I won't let them win, but I need this. If I don't, I die and...everyone else will be in jeopardy too."

Altair did not respond immediately, contemplating what he had just been told.

"What is your name?"

The answer came after a moment of hesitation. "Desmond Miles."

Altair waited another moment in contemplation before relaxing a fraction. "I will...assist you...Dezmund for the sake of you and...everyone else. However, should you try to go against the Creed or fully assist the Templars, I will destroy you."

"Of course." Desmond wasn't going to refuse any offer Altair gave him. "All right, off to kill Robert de Sable then."

Altair's eyes narrowed. "Yes."

* * *

"Full synchronization." Lucy mumbled in awe. "But...how?"

"His ancestor accepted his existence within his memories and is permitting him to accompany him." Vidic couldn't believe his luck. "Full synchronization means...Lucy. Send him to the memory we require."

"But, sir."

"Do it now, Lucy."

"But..."

"Now or I will and you can see yourself out...for good."

Not wanting to jeopardize her own mission, Lucy obeyed and fast forward to the memory they needed.

* * *

Desmond wasn't expecting a to fast forward and felt a bit disoriented as he shifted back into Altair, a spray of blood erupted into his face as a shout of words, incoherent in Desmond's dazed state, erupted through his ears.

"Dezmund?" Altair's voice made the ex-bartender flinch. "You return?"

"Sorry." Desmond mumbled. "I didn't mean to leave."

Desmond realized suddenly whom they were staring at.

"Holy crap! What happened?" He gasped out upon seeing the dying face of Al Mualim.

Altair ignored him as he knelt beside his old master. "You held fire in your hand, old man. It should have been destroyed."

"Destroy the only thing capable of ending the Crusades and creating true peace? Never."

"Then I will."

"We'll see about that."

Altair stood up and turned towards a glowing gold orb as Desmond watched on, confused.

"Is that...a bad thing?" Desmond asked as Altair continued to stare at the object without moving.

"Yes." Altair whispered. "I...must destroy it."

"So destroy it." Desmond encouraged.

"I...can't." Altair continued to stare, beginning to approach the object.

"No." Desmond mumbled. "Altair, destroy it."

"No."

"It's what they're after." Desmond insisted. "Stop. Destroy it."

"Destroy it..." Altair replied, eyes transfixed as the object abruptly glowed brighter before a form appeared above it.

Immediately, Desmond recognized the shape of the earth, upon which bright lights glowed in various spots. "No. Altair, this is bad."

"Dezmund?" Altair replied.

"We've got it!" Vidic's voice interrupted them, startling Altair.

"HELP ME!" Desmond struggled against the bright light overtaking them. "ALTAIR!"

Then he was consumed.

* * *

Desmond sat up, shaking and skin clammy. Sweat glued his shirt to his back and he had an infuriating urge to undress and take a long shower. His eyes flicked up to the conference room where three suited men stood. Beside him, Dr. Vidic was talking to the men, but Desmond couldn't quite make out what they were saying, mind too foggy and head still spinning.

"And the Assassin?"

Desmond's face jerked up to stare at Vidic.

"We have what we need." One of the suited men said. "Kill him."

His muscles tightened, but he had an unsettling feeling it had not been him who had caused this reaction.

"Wait." Lucy stepped forward.

Desmond relaxed as Lucy convinced the three men in the adjoining room to let Desmond live, much to his relief and Vidic's aggravation.

Abruptly, Vidic started to leave, Lucy in tow, and Desmond stood, partially in panic, knowing his current situation had not improved much, despite Lucy being on his side.

"Dezmund?"

The young man physically jumped.

"Altair?" Desmond whispered, not wanting Vidic, who was still in the room to hear him. "Can you...help me leave? I don't have any weapons, but...maybe..."

"Leave this place?" Altair responded and Desmond couldn't tell if he was hearing the voice inside or outside of his head. "Yes."

"They have powerful weapons." Desmond mumbled turning towards the exit, which was opening. "Ranged. They could kill us if even one hits us."

"Nothing will touch us."

"They're fast."

"Nothing will touch us." Altair replied and Desmond was shocked to see himself switch into Eagle Vision. He wasn't as surprised to see Vidic was in red and Lucy in blue, but he was horrified by the red markings all around the room. "Blood?"

"Is it?" Desmond mumbled in awe and disgust.

"Let us leave." Altair moved Desmond's body and the ex-bartender immediately decided he did not like this feeling, resisting it unintentionally. "Dezmund, I cannot help you if you do not let me."

"Right." Desmond tried to relax and a cold feeling slipped over him as Altair possessed his body. As if shoved to the side, Desmond watched as Altair abruptly dashed forward, past Lucy and Vidic.

"Desmond, no!" Lucy shouted, but it was too late.

Altair had already turned the corner and was rushing towards the glass doors. If it wasn't for Desmond's warning, he would have collided with them, but instead he leaped upwards, latching onto the top, and heaving himself over.

A loud wailing filled the air, but Altair was able to ignore it when the information came to him through Desmond.

"It's only an alarm!" Desmond shouted. "Run!"

Altair didn't need any further encouragement.

A maze of hallways and hand-to-hand combat brought Desmond to an elevator, which took some convincing to get Altair into.

"I do not see how a tiny room is the best place to be right now." Altair argued, blanching away from the sliding doors.

"Just get in it, Altair!"

"STOP!" The shouts of guards filled the air.

The Assassin rushed into the elevator before a flurry of bullets could catch them.

Quickly, Desmond worked the elevator and they were on their way down.

"I don't know how you know where to go." Desmond muttered.

"Down, yes?" Altair responded. "I could see through the windows we were high from the ground, so it is logical we need to go down. If you do not believe me..."

"I believe you." Desmond laughed nervously. "Just don't get us killed."

"I will not let us die here."

The elevator opened and they exited it, quickly finding themselves in a room full of glass cubicles containing more animus machines.

"Whoa." Desmond gazed on in disbelief. "Um...there's another elevator over there, I think...across the room. That's what the sign says."

"If you say so." Altair replied before rushing forward and deciding to take a shortcut across the vast chamber by leaping from cubicle to cubicle instead of winding through the maze.

This new elevator, however, required a code, but this did not hinder Altair. Once Desmond explained the concept to the Assassin, he made short work of the keypad using his eagle vision.

"You are incredible." Desmond shook his head in awe.

"I could not do this if you did not possess the skill as well, Dezmund." Altair told him as they entered the elevator.

"The Eagle Vision?"

"You are indeed my descendant." Altair sighed. "Well, at the least, you are related to me. This trait is rare, even amongst Assassins. I simply hope my body has not been left unattended."

"No." Desmond wasn't sure how to explain. "You're just...it's just your memory here with me. Your body is...sorry, but it's probably been dead for eight...nine hundred years. I don't know, but you had at least one kid, clearly."

He was surprised when Altair chuckled. "Yes...clearly."

The elevator opened up into a parking garage and they were immediately surrounded by twenty guards. Altair didn't struggle in the least when dispatching them.

"Your body is unaccustomed to this work." Altair stated, gasping for breath. "You are not an Assassin?"

"I was born into an Assassin family." Desmond informed him. "But I ran away when I was sixteen. It's been years since I was apart of the Creed in any way."

"Why did you run away?" Altair moved towards the exit, quickly erasing another two guards from existence.

"I thought..." Desmond gave a weak laugh. "I thought my family was crazy. I thought the idea of being an Assassin and opposing the Templars was a bunch of made-up paranoia or something. I didn't realize...if I had known...I would have never left home, believe you me."

"I believe you."

Sunshine ignited across Desmond's vision, blinding him temporarily. Once he could see again, he began to explain away the technology roaring around them as vehicles zoomed past and crowds of people chatted upon their cellular phones.

"Just keep moving." Desmond instructed as he sent images of where he wanted to go in hope Altair could see them. He was relieved when the Assassin was able to process the information and began to hide them in the crowds. "We can't go home, so let's get on a bus out of town. We need money. Can you pickpocket a wallet? They'll be in guy's pockets and women's purses."

Altair made short work of collecting enough money for their journey and they soon found themselves on a bus heading out of the city. As they took their seat, Desmond began to sense Altair's rising anxiety and tried to calm the Assassin from another time.

"Let me take over for now." Desmond whispered, trying not to be heard by those around him. "If you don't mind coming back when I need you."

"As long as it does not interfere with my work in Masyaf."

Desmond sighed, attempting to hide his exasperation. How was he going to explain to Altair so the Syrian could understand?

"All right." Desmond nodded. "Thanks. I'll call you when or if I need you."

"Stay safe, my friend."

"You as well."

Desmond felt warm again the moment Altair disappeared into the back of his mind and he fell limp against the seat. His body was exhausted, shaking and covered in sweat. All he wanted to do was sleep, but he fought the fatigue, not trusting those around him or any stops they would make. Hunching over, he rested his head on his hands, trying to stay ducked beneath the window for fear of snipers.

Groaning, he realized he was in for a long weary trip.

* * *

Desmond's eyes opened against his will and he had stood and was rushing off of the bus before he had even oriented himself. The chill which had taken over his body registered finally and he realized Altair was in control of him again.

"What's going on"? Desmond gasped as his legs took him far from where the bus had stopped as he tried to figure out when he had fallen asleep.

"We're being followed." Altair responded and again Desmond wondered if the voice was inside or outside of his head. "You foolishly slept."

"I'm exhausted." Desmond muttered, trying to glance backwards, but Altair's control over him did not permit even this small of movement on Desmond's command. "Please, Altair. I need food and sleep."

"We will eat and rest once we are safe."

"That could be never."

"Do you want my assistance or not?"

Desmond groaned, consenting to Altair's wishes. They found themselves several blocks away from the bus and hidden amongst the crowds where Altair activated their eagle vision to check for their pursuers. Two blue forms were moving amongst the people, doing their best not to look conspicuous, but clearly looking for someone, of whom Desmond was sure was himself.

The eagle vision disintegrated and Desmond gasped at the sight of Lucy standing beside a blond man in glasses.

"She's a friend." Desmond insisted. "She can help us."

"Was she not working for the Templars?"

"She's an undercover Assassin." Desmond explained, body flinching between Altair control and Desmond's. "She's a friend."

"You are sure?"

"Yes."

"I will bring you to her." Altair stated. "But I will be prepared to run. Understood?"

Desmond didn't argue. "Yeah. Sounds good, but you've got to let me talk."

"I believe you've always held control of this function."

"Right."

They started towards the two, weaving between the mass of people like a snake through grass. They slid up beside Lucy and hooked a hand upon her arm. She inhaled sharply, but did not fight as Desmond began to walk her through the crowd.

"Are you here to help?" Desmond asked, eyes narrowing thanks to Altair's suspicion.

"Yes." Lucy replied, glancing back at the blond, whom was now following them. "Desmond, I can't believe you took off like that! You could have gotten yourself killed! I can't believe you escaped!"

"Yes." The sarcastic British accent made Altair tense and flick golden eyes back at the bespectacled man. "Clearly, he's had more training then anyone gave him credit for, unless the Bleeding Effect has somehow increased, which is more likely."

"Shaun." Lucy hissed and the man fell silent. She focused upon Desmond. "We have to get you out of here before Abstergo finds you, which they will if you keep moving around. You are not discreet."

"Hey, all I've learned about being an Assassin, I've learned from 1191. I don't know if you've noticed, but a lot has changed since then. Guns, cars, cameras."

"I did notice, yes, Desmond." Lucy's tone showed she did not appreciate his hostile voice. "Let's go."

Altair stopped when Lucy moved towards the alleyway.

"Desmond." Lucy turned back to him. "Come on. It's not safe."

Desmond hesitated to encourage Altair, not wanting the two with him to label him as crazy. He had no intentions whatsoever of telling them Altair was assisting him.

"H-how am I sure I can trust you?" Desmond asked for Altair.

"We've already established this." Lucy pressed her left hand flat to her chest, displaying the missing ring finger. "Come on, Desmond."

Still, Altair was reluctant.

"And him?" Desmond nodded to Shaun.

"He's one of us." Lucy insisted, urgency in her voice. "We have to go, Desmond. Now!"

Altair's eyes narrowed at her, but began to follow her anyways. Lucy was flabbergast, confused by Desmond's sudden distrust. She didn't have time to dwell on it as she popped the trunk of the car Shaun had parked.

"In." She motioned to it.

"No."

Desmond was shocked by Altair's sudden control over his voice.

"It's for your own protection." Lucy explained. "Please, Desmond."

"No." Altair remained firmly planted in spot.

"Desmond." Lucy glanced around anxiously. "Come on! We don't have time for this!"

"I do not trust you."

Lucy gazed at the young man, mouth open in shock. "How many times do I have to prove to you I am a friend?"

Altair's eyes became slits as he stared at her. "Why must I get in there?"

"We have to hide you." Lucy quickly told him. "And this is the easiest way. Please, trust me!"

Desmond urged with his emotions for Altair to trust the woman, sending images of her attempts to help him throughout the Animus ordeal. Altair reviewed them, cautious, but finally agreed to cram himself into the trunk of the car. As soon as it closed, Desmond gave an annoyed sigh.

"I thought you were going to let me have control over the talking." He hissed as quietly as he could.

"I do not trust them."

"She's an Assassin."

"I have never met a woman Assassin."

"Times have changed."

"Clearly."

Desmond felt like rolling his eyes, but Altair did not permit him.

"Just try not to breath to hard." Desmond implored. "I have no idea how much air we have in here."

Altair growled, but relaxed his breathing.

* * *

The trunk opened and Desmond slipped out to follow Lucy.

"Where are we?" He asked, rubbing a hand over his face and realizing how warm his body felt. Altair was not here with him.

"It's a hidden base of operations." Lucy told him as they made their way up a long flight of stairs. "I have a huge favor to ask of you."

"A favor?"

"Yes." Lucy reached the top of the stairs and faced him. "We need to train you to become an Assassin."

Desmond gave an incredulous laugh. "Lucy, are you nuts? It'd take months…years even! I can't learn to become an Assassin! We don't have time for it!"

"But we can with the Animus." Lucy stated. "You could learn through the Bleeding Effect to become an Assassin with the Animus. Instead of years of training, it'd be only days."

"Yes, spoon-fed what true Assassins have spent years, even generations, perfecting." Shaun scoffed, glaring at Desmond as if it was the young man's fault. "Sounds fantastic."

"I don't know, Lucy." Desmond ignored the British man. "Why me?"

"It's complicated, Desmond." Lucy brushed off his question. "But it's important. If you can learn to become an assassin, you have no idea how much it would help us."

"Do it."

Altair's voice made Desmond flinch.

"Learn to become an Assassin, Dezmund." Altair whispered in his ear. "If you can, you will not have to rely on me anymore."

Desmond frowned, wanting to talk to Altair about this without getting looks of concern for his mental health.

"Can I have a minute to think about it?" Desmond asked. "Like while I shower or something?"

Lucy sighed, but nodded. "Yes. Shaun?"

"I guess I can show him the way." Shaun rolled his eyes before motioning Desmond to follow him.

They arrived at a cramped bathroom and Shaun faced the young man.

"Try not to dilly dally too long." Shaun snarled. "Time is of the essence."

"Yeah, sure thing." Desmond attempted to slip past the man, but nearly overreacted when the blond hooked his arm. "Whoa…"

"You know, I'm only agreeing to this because of Lucy." Shaun stated sternly. "Don't disappoint."

"Okay." Desmond nodded hastily, pulling his arm away and rushing into the bathroom with its comforting solitude.

After checking for cameras and starting up the water, Desmond looked into the mirror and the image he had become oddly accustomed to.

"You look just like me." Altair gawked in amazement. "We could be brothers."

Desmond frowned inwardly. The face he stared at could be his own or Altair's. As a chill settled over him the line between them seemed to vanish.

"Altair." Desmond said, watching his lips move with the formation of the name. "Do you really think this is a good idea?"

"I do not see how it is a bad idea." Altair's sureness unsettled Desmond for an unknown reason. "If the Templars are indeed after you and seek either to use or destroy you, it is in your benefit and best interest to learn the skills of an assassin in order to protect yourself and fight them."

"You have a point, but it's not the learning that bothers me." Desmond admitted. "Just the means they want me to learn it by."

"How do you mean?"

"Let me show you the Animus."

Desmond began to shove his memories of the Animus across Altair's vision until he had nothing left to show.

"It lets me see your memories. If they put me in it again, I will be revisiting your memories again. It'd probably be early in your life while in training. I don't know what will happen to you in the meantime, but you may accompany me and… I'm not sure it'd be good for you to see...well, I mean…Adha…"

Altair stiffened. "If it is what is best for you, but I do not see how this Animus is supposed to help you."

"The Bleeding Effect means some of your skills will be passed to me as I relive your memories. What you learn, I will learn. It's how I can use eagle vision. I got it from you."

The Syrian was frowning. "And by reliving my early life during training, you too will train."

"Yes."

"But only your mind will be disciplined, not your body." Altair argued. "I ran your body out of the Templars' reach. You are not untrained, but your body is not disciplined for my work. It has no memory of the work I do. I do not see how you will naturally fight or run."

Desmond grimaced. "You're right. I don't know how I will be able to properly do it, but maybe…the mind is a powerful tool, Altair. Maybe, it will work somehow."

Altair sighed, slumping. "I hope so. In the meantime, I will go until you are prepared for this Animus."

"All right." Desmond quickly agreed, not entirely comfortable with the idea of bathing while Altair looked on.

Once warmth returned to his body, Desmond took a quick shower and returned to Shaun, who had been waiting outside for him.

"Talking to yourself?" Shaun asked, one brow popped high on his face. "That isn't a good sign for those using the Animus."

"Yeah?" Desmond motioned for Shaun to lead the way. "I'm ready to begin."

"Oh, joy." Shaun rolled his eyes and started towards the workshop they would be working in.

"Hi, I'm Rebecca."

He was introduced to the Animus' caretaker and then found himself seated in the machine he had hoped he'd never visit again.

"Dezmond." Altair whispered in his ear, causing him to jump slightly.

"Relax." Rebecca told him, approaching with the needle needed to access the Animus. "This will hurt."

"Great." Desmond swallowed as she stuck it in him. "OW!"

"Dezmond." Altair tried again to get his attention. "I don't think this is a good idea."

"This was your idea to begin with." Desmond growled lowly.

"What was that?" Rebecca leaned towards him.

"Oh." Desmond panicked momentarily. "N-nothing."

"Just try to relax."

"No."

Desmond was suddenly standing, yanking the needle out of his arm before the Animus had fully activated.

"No." Altair spoke, heart pounding rapidly with fear Desmond thought the Master Assassin could never feel. Then again, Altair was trapped in an incredibly alien world. "No. No. No. I will not go in there."

"Des…" Lucy started at the young man skeptically. "There is no other way."

"I'm sorry." Desmond took over his voice and attempted to push Altair's control away. "I'm just…it's hard. After Abstergo and Vidic…"

Lucy's brows pinched. "I understand, but we have to do this."

"He's just being a big baby." Shaun muttered.

"You can remain silent!" Altair snarled at Shaun, causing the blond man to gape at him in momentary surprise. "It is impossible. I will not go in there. I will train on my own. No!"

Desmond managed to regain control.

"I'm sorry." He put a hand to his head, wanting to suppress the roaring headache there, but not being capable. "I'm sorry. I'm…really tired."

"Desmond." Lucy was grimacing. "I don't want to push you, but we really don't have much time."

"I know." Desmond nodded. "It's just…it's complicated."

"If you need to talk about it…"

"No!" Desmond put up his hands. "No I don't. I just…I'm having a hard time…it's…I don't think synchronizing with Altair went well."

Altair began to curse at him for such a rude comment and Desmond made a mental note to apologize to him later.

"Well, you won't be synchronizing with Altair." Lucy told him.

"Wait, what?" He gawked at her. "Then who?"

"Ezio Auditore da Firenze." She informed him. "An Italian in the 15th Century."

"Really?" Desmond blinked at her. "Huh."

"Time is still running, Mr. Miles." Shaun stated and Desmond had an unsettling reminder or Dr. Vidic.

Altair pointed to the blond. "I do not like you."

"Funny." Shaun shot back. "I don't really care for you either."

"Into the Animus, please, Desmond." Lucy began to push Desmond back towards the chair. "Please."

"All right." Desmond agreed, retaking control of his body. He'd have to tell Altair not to randomly switch with him again, especially without permission or any logical reason to.

Seated once more, he let Rebecca put in the needle again and his vision began to blur until the Animus sucked him in.

He was shocked to hear Altair's anxiety-ridden voice.

"Dezmund?"

"Altair." He responded without even thinking. "Don't worry…it's going to be okay."

"We're going to Ezio." Lucy's voice came over the mic. "And stop stressing. Your vitals are getting to be too high."

"Sorry." He mumbled as around him white filled the space.

His jaw fell open at who stood before him and he missed the gasps of those outside.

"Altair?"

* * *

Altair didn't know what to think when he found himself in the glowing white room without walls or ceiling or floor. He stood there, paralyzed with fear, and then his eyes found those of Desmond. It bothered him how much they mirrored one another, down to the scar upon their lips. He wondered how Desmond had gotten his scar, if it had been a reflection of Altair's own acquirement of it.

"Altair?" Desmond gasped, gazing at the assassin.

"You can see me?" Altair asked as his gaze flitted over the form of Desmond. "Is this the Animus? How is it you live through memories from here?"

"It's complicated." Desmond replied.

"How does Altair know about the Animus?" Lucy's voice made Desmond cringe.

He hadn't anticipated seeing Altair within the Animus. He had hoped the Assassin would return to his own memories when Desmond attempted to access Ezio's, but he had been sorely mistaken. Instead, he now stood only a few feet from the Assassin who, despite displaying calm, had absolute terror in his golden eyes.

Deciding to ignore Lucy's question, Desmond focused on moving on to Ezio.

"Hey! Can we hurry it up? I thought we were on a time limit? I honestly don't want to spend any more time in here than I need to."

"Just one moment, Desmond." Rebecca replied. "I have to get rid of Altair first. Let's see…if I reroute the Altair mainstream memory, he should go away…"

"Wait." Desmond began and then he was screaming, his shrieks accompanied by the agonized ones of Altair. "STOP! REBECCA! NO!"

"That's not right." Rebecca gasped, her voice frantic. "Wait. That should have worked!"

"Stop!" Lucy yelled. "Stop the process! Desmond's vitals are haywire!"

The pain abruptly vanished and Desmond found himself on his knees, gripping for his head and gasping for air. Across from him, Altair was doing the same.

"What sorcery is this?" Altair gaped at his descendant. "Dezmund. Don't…let…them…do that…again."

"Stop." Desmond called to the others. "It's okay. Altair…he can be here."

"Desmond." Lucy's voice came over, but it sounded as if she ignored him. "We're going to reroute the memories, throw you into Altair's for a second, and see if we can't get rid of him."

"No." Desmond groaned.

"It'll be okay." Lucy told him. "Just a moment."

"No…" Altair tried to stand, but a bright light overtook them.

They found themselves in Masyaf, standing before a glowing piece of Eden with Malik beside them. For a moment, Desmond thought he stood next to Altair, but then realized he was the Master Assassin.

"We're sending you to Ezio." Lucy informed him over the microphone.

Another bright light brought him to a bedroom where a woman was giving birth. At first, he stood beside her, watching in confusion and then he felt himself become absorbed into the tiny form being taken up by the midwife. A man entered and took the baby from the midwife. After some struggling, Desmond began to breath and, of course being a baby, he cried.

Light consumed him again and he awoke once more, this time as a much older Ezio.

Ezio's body felt icy, like when Altair tool over Desmond's body, and Desmond wondered where the Syrian Assassin had gone during the transfer to Ezio.

At first, it took some getting used to moving like Ezio. Unlike Altair, whom was well-trained and had known the Assassin life for years, it seemed Ezio had no idea about the Assassin ways and, though he was adept at free-running and fighting, he moved with much less grace than the Syrian had. Despite this, Desmond found himself growing much more quickly attached to the Italian that he had to his more ancient ancestor. Ezio had a flamboyant and vibrant personality with excellent humor, making him a contrasting opposite to the serious and mirthless Altair Ibn La'Ahad.

Initially, everything seemed to be going smoothly. As Desmond moved Ezio around the city of Florence, he grew more adept at controlling the youth's body. Unlike with Altair, the switch between being Desmond and being Ezio seemed much easier and Desmond wondered if it was because of Ezio's age and inexperience or because this was Desmond's second time reliving someone's life within the Animus.

It wasn't until after the death of Ezio's father and brothers and Ezio arrived in Monteriggioni with his mother and sister something went wrong. It began with a momentary glitch where Desmond swore he saw Altair in the mirror instead of Ezio then all hell seemed to break loose when Ezio seemed to have noticed the glitch.

"There is a demon controlling me." Ezio suddenly stated. "I saw just now in the mirror a face similar to mine, but not."

"Ezio!" He gulped down his anxiety. "It's fine! I'm not a demon! It's hard to explain! I'm your descendant."

"Desmond, what are you doing?" Lucy's voice spoke out to him.

"My name is Desmond Miles." He chose to ignore her. "I'm your descendant. I'm here to learn alongside you!"

Ezio was listening, but Desmond wasn't sure if the young assassin was enraged or confused by this knowledge.

"Please." Desmond continued. "I'm not going to hurt you. I can help you and you can help me."

"You are an idiot."

Altair's voice made Desmond's eyes widen. The Syrian had come with him?

"Do you truly believe it is easy for us to hear we are being possessed by our descendant?"

"Altair?" Desmond gasped out.

"It's Ezio, Desmond." Lucy stated. "Rebecca. Pull him out. I don't think he's doing well."

"No." Desmond argued. "Ezio! I had to do the same with Altair and he let me! If you let me, it will be so much easier! I promise! I won't hurt you."

"Altair?"

"How did you learn this name?" Mario suddenly asked, entering the room.

Ezio spun around, eyes resting upon his Uncle's. "M-my father may have mentioned it once or twice."

Mario nodded, accepting the answer. "He was a Master Assassin, the greatest of his time and, perhaps, ever. He made improvements to the Brotherhood like no other before him. His armor rests in a vault beneath this villa, but it is a great puzzle to remove it. One day, when I feel your fighting is up to par, I will show it to you and perhaps you can solve the riddle to it."

Ezio nodded. "I will, Uncle."

"Good." Mario smiled and left the room without further word.

Frowning, Ezio turned back to the mirror.

"Altair. Desmond." Ezio closed his eyes. "Are you friend or foe?"

"Friend." Desmond insisted. "I am a friend, Ezio."

"Pull him out, Rebecca." Lucy commanded.

"Just a moment." Rebecca responded. "I have to make sure his vitals are fine first."

"Hurry."

"It's fine!" Desmond shouted at them, hoping they could hear him. "Ezio! You have to accept me or they'll try to pull me out and I'm not sure what will happen!"

"Abort, Rebecca."

"Aborting now."

"Ezio!" Desmond hollered as white began to blotch out his vision. "Please!"

* * *

He awoke with a start, nearly flying from his seat. At the back of his head, something was scratching insistently and he rubbed at it in aggravation.

"What was that for?" Desmond growled as Lucy approached the Animus.

"Desmond." She stated. "I don't know why you were talking to Ezio as if he can hear you, but he's just a memory. I think you've been in the Animus too long. You need a break."

"We can't afford any breaks!" Desmond hissed at her.

"I hate to agree with him," Shaun interrupted as he walked over to them. "But Desmond is right. We either do this now, or we don't do this at all."

"Lucy," Rebecca crossed her arms. "It's your call, but we are putting a lot on the line here for you to be uncertain."

Lucy sighed, clearly bothered by Desmond's reaction.

"Sorry." An Italian accent flitted across Desmond's ears. "I didn't mean to cause you so much trouble, amico."

Desmond swallowed, sweat beginning to form on his arm.

"But look at her." Ezio's voice was excited. "She is your love, Desmond? She's quite beautiful."

Desmond closed his eyes briefly before reopening them to the sound of Altair.

"She is an Assassin like us." Altair stated. "Or so she claims. I have as of yet seen anything to clarify this claim to me."

"Let's get back in." Desmond turned to Rebecca. "I'm ready whenever you are."

"Let's not have anymore…problems." Lucy looked pointed at Desmond. "Good luck."

"Thank you."

His vision blurred and he did his best not to hold his breath as he entered the Animus once more.

"What is this?" Ezio yelped upon seeing the white world of the loading screen. It took a moment for Desmond to realize he was possessing the Italian's body rather than standing beside him as he had the first time he and Altair entered the Animus. "I haven't died, have I?"

"Desmond, stop fooling around." Lucy spoke and Ezio jumped at her voice.

"By God." Ezio cursed. "She can speak to us?"

Desmond gave a quick explanation, blocking out Lucy's voice.

"I see." Ezio nodded. "This will be fun."

"Wait." Rebecca's tone was baffled. "They're conversing?"

"Please tell me I'm not the only one finding this worrisome." Shaun interjected.

"We have full synchronization." Lucy's voice was astonished. "But how? This happened with Altair as well. He talked to Altair and they suddenly synchronized completely."

"This will make the Bleeding Effect greater." Shaun warned. "We can't keep him in as long as we were intending."

"It will take forever for him to learn everything Ezio learned then." Lucy groaned.

"I'm fine!" Desmond shouted at them. "Ezio is helping me."

"Desmond." Lucy's tone was serious. "You cannot be 'helped' by your ancestors. They're dead. They shouldn't be talking to you. They shouldn't realize you are there. You shouldn't be fully synchronizing with them within only a couple hours of being in the Animus."

"It's fine."

"It isn't fine." Lucy snapped. "I'm pulling you out of the Animus. We need to have a talk."

"He's fine, amica." Ezio grinned up at the ceiling. "No worries. I'll take good care of him while he's in here with me."

"He's talking to me." Lucy gasped. "This isn't normal. Pull him out, Rebecca."

"Aborting."

"No!" Desmond shouted. "Wait! Ezio! Altair!"

"We are with you, brother."

Desmond couldn't believe how easily he trusted Altair's words and he relaxed as he was pulled from the Animus.

"Desmond!" Lucy shook the young man a little as he tried to orient himself from leaving the Animus. "You are not supposed to be talking to your ancestors! And why are they talking back? And Altair isn't in the picture!"

The ex-bartender stood stretching and then he gave her a flirtatious grin.

"Oh, Desmond, she is quite the looker." Ezio laughed. "I hope you don't mind me…getting to know her on a pet name basis."

Rebecca, Lucy, and Shaun gazed at Desmond wordlessly, all their eyes wide and their mouths open.

"Um…Ezio?" Lucy managed to say.

"Yes?" Ezio took a step towards her, reaching out a hand to brush it down her arm. "Did you need something, amore? I could tend to you…lovingly."

He dodged a slap aimed towards his face.

"Oh, she's feisty, Desmond." Ezio flashed a smile at her. "I like that in a woman."

"He's gone crazy." Lucy covered her mouth with her hand. "I made Desmond go crazy."

"Is this what happened with Subject 16?" Shaun asked with concern?

"No." Lucy shook her head. "That was more…straightjacket crazy. This is not as…well, maybe it is."

"Lo non sono pazzo." Ezio scowled at the three. "Desmond has given me permission to assist him and so I am. Altair is also helping him, or so I have been told."

"How are you able to speak English?" Lucy asked, scowling at the young man.

"I know what Desmond calls Middle English." Ezio explained. "I am simply following his instructions, though he is trying right now to take over again. It is good that Altair keeps distracting him or we would not be having this lovely conversation, bella."

Lucy pursed her lips. "You mean, you are getting information from Desmond?"

"I am…as he keeps calling it…downloading information he has." Ezio elaborated with a wave of his hands. "He is teaching me as we speak. With, as you call in, the genetic memory, it is possible for Desmond to know Italiano and English of the Fifteenth Century and it is this genetic memory we are using to translate to this much newer English, which he speaks."

"Sounds time-consuming." Rebecca commented skeptically.

"Not necessarily." Shaun cut in, sounding intrigued for the first time since he had met Desmond. "The brain is fast. We can process 20 million billion bits of information every second. If there are three, let's say consciences having control, even if only a little, over Desmond's mind, it might actually be possible for the subdued consciences to send information faster that the conscience in control. This means, Desmond may be able to send complete translations, images and information on our technology, and other various bits of important knowledge to the current conscience commandeering his body in a matter of seconds, making it possible for Ezio to hold conversations with us without us even realizing they're interacting.

"Exactly." Ezio smiled at the look of awe on Lucy's features. "What? Desmond was explaining while this…Shaun, is it? Altair doesn't like you and Desmond says you remind him of…oh, wait. Sorry. I'm not supposed to say."

Shaun scoffed.

"So what you're saying is Desmond has accepted the consciences of memories or whatever of his ancestors and they are currently able to possess his body?" Lucy asked, eyes disbelieving.

"Why do you doubt, amica?" Ezio purred, his eyes taunting her and inviting her closer. "Perhaps a little bit more…private time spent with me will convince you?"

"No need." Lucy turned to Shaun. "We need to fix this. If Desmond keeps this up, we could lose him."

"We will not permit Desmond to be destroyed."

They all returned their faces to Desmond at the change of tone. Ezio's smile had vanished and been replaced by a far more serious and sinister look.

"Altair?" Lucy guessed.

The Master Assassin narrowed his eyes at her. "If you are truly on Desmond's side, you would not resist our aid. We are knowledge…I am knowledgeable. I cannot vouch for this Etiseo."

"Ezio." Shaun corrected and received a silencing glare.

"As I was saying," Altair continued, unperturbed by being interrupted. "We can help Desmond. We can train his body as you train his mind. It is the best way."

"All right."

Lucy did not see any way around their predicament. If they tried to force the memories of Altair and Ezio away against the three, as Shaun put is, consciences' wills, they risked the chance of shattering Desmond's mind and having another Subject Sixteen case on their hands. She never wanted to see someone ruined like he had been and for this reason was willing to bypass all the abnormality for the sake of keeping Desmond's mind stable.

"We'll get started then."

She motioned to the waiting Animus and Altair turned to look at it. There was a moment where she realized Desmond had taken control and then he was running from the room towards the bathroom.

"Desmond, wait!" She shouted, chasing after him, but she stopped at the door when she heard him emptying his stomach into the toilet. "Are you all right?"

"Not…really." Desmond gagged out. "I'm starving…and I'm so tired."

Lucy nodded. "All right, Desmond. You win. Rest up and eat something. We'll try in a few hours."

He nodded, but took his time getting up from the toilet. Though he knew it was impossible, he was almost sure he felt two hands on either side of his back, one patting him and one resting reassuring and firm.

"It's all right, Desmond." Ezio whispered into his ear. "Hang on. We'll get you through this, fratello."

"Let's get to a bed." Altair instructed and Desmond swore the Syrian and Italian hooked him from underneath his arms and began to assist him towards the bed in the room containing the Animus. "You need rest, brother."

"Yeah." Desmond rested against the Syrian for support. "Yeah. I'm so tired."

He collapsed into the bed, eyes closing before his body even met the mattress.

Desmond couldn't remember the last time he had fallen asleep so easily.

* * *

Altair reached out his hand to touch the face of the woman waiting for him, not sure why his body was moving on its own without his consent. It didn't feel like when Desmond controlled him, but it unnerved him regardless. This was not Adha, but the woman Maria Thorpe, whom had worked for Robert de Sable, his past enemy. It made no sense for his hand to touch her in such a loving way. His face leaned towards hers and he begged his mind to stop this madness. Had he grown this lonely to wish for this woman? Had the loss of Adha and then the only father figure he'd had since losing his blood family left him this helpless and needy?

His lips pressed against hers and his eyes closed as he breathed her in scent. For a moment, he caught the emotions in his body was feeling and his chest tightened at the love and adoration cascading over him.

"Fine woman, amico."

Altair's eyes opened and he turned to stare at Ezio for a moment before focusing ahead of him. He blanched upon realizing he was now watching himself lower Maria into the hay.

"Ooo la la." Ezio laughed and Altair scowled at him.

"Stop watching." Altair grabbed the Assassin-in-training and spun him away from the scene. "Sick b***."

Ezio snickered, patting the Master Assassin on the back. "You do not seem pleased to know you were with such a bella giovane donna."

Altair's features gave away nothing, but Ezio was perceptive, catching the change in the Syrian's eyes.

"You do not know her as a lover?" Ezio asked, astonished. "Then this is the future for you?"

Altair ran a hand over his face. "I do not know. Perhaps. Perhaps not."

Ezio's brows rose. "Well, be happy. You found yourself a beautiful woman who is willing to be with you, quite literally, anywhere. I admit some jealousy, but it is only some. The ladies love me. If I had met this woman before you, my friend, I assure you she would have chosen me."

The Master's eyes narrowed upon realizing the insult aimed at his direction, but he chose logic over name-calling and self-comparisons.

"Considering Desmond is our descendant, I believe it is obvious we were both successful in producing heirs. Nothing else needs to be said."

Ezio rolled his eyes. "You know, it is a good thing I wasn't born into your 'Creed'."

Altair agreed without hesitation.

"You would have either learned your lesson early on or died, my flamboyant friend. Such unnecessary decorations and outward behavior is unfitting on an Assassin of my Creed."

The Italian scoffed.

"Different time. Different place. The needs of my generation are vastly different from yours. We require etiquette, fashion, chivalry, and virility.

At the last word, he cupped his groin and laughed at Altair's snarl.

"I will teach you the ways of Italia." Ezio reassured the other Assassin. "By the time Desmond is a proper Assassin, you will be a proper Italiano, fratello."

Altair had many crude retaliating words, but chose to hold his tongue. While he did not know what kind of temper Ezio had, he held no desire to begin a battle between them. He was here for the purpose of training Desmond and helping his descendant to become adept at his own self-defense. He only hoped he was successful.

"I believe he is about to awake." Altair informed his companion.

"And it seems you're done." Ezio snorted and Altair let out a growl of anger. "Well, you are."

"I'm not going to like spending these lone conversations with you." Altair admitted before the world grew bright around them.

Ezio's curses were lost amid Desmond's awaking.

* * *

Desmond opened his eyes, his dream still flitting across his vision. Altair had chosen Maria Thorpe? He admitted some shock over this, but decided not to dwell on the thought since he was sure Altair himself would be quite surprised given he'd last seen the woman as an enemy.

"How are you feeling, Desmond?" Lucy asked as she walked up to the young man carrying a tray of food and coffee.

"Better." He admitted.

"Well, it's about time." Shaun griped from where he sat at his desk.

"Eat up." Lucy set the tray down beside Desmond. "You have a long day ahead of you."

Desmond began to eat while Altair and Ezio waited inside his mind. It felt odd, knowing they were there, watching through his eyes and hearing through his ears. They knew what was going on around him as well as he did. Altair remained silent and patient, but a fidgeting anxiety nagged at the back of Desmond's skull where Ezio did his best to remain as stoic and calm as the Syrian.

He failed.

Ezio stood abruptly, commanding Desmond's body without warning.

"Ah, today is a beautiful day, but I confess I have business in this Animus, which must be fulfilled. I am sure my presence is required."

"Let the boy eat." Altair argued, tugging on Ezio in an attempt to take control.

"Boy?" Desmond scoffed. "I'm twenty-five!"

Ezio froze and Desmond was able to retake control over his body.

"There is no way you are older than me, fratello."

"I am."

"And you are the same age as me." Altair sounded baffled at this.

"Desmond." Lucy interrupted their conversation. "You're talking to yourself."

"Sorry." He muttered. "I don't know how to talk to just them when I'm in control."

"It isn't like thinking?" Lucy questioned.

"No." Desmond shrugged. "I tried that several times, but they couldn't hear me. It only works if I talk out loud.

"It might be the mind's way of clarifying who is in charge of the body." Shaun offered up as a possible explanation.

"Yeah but sometimes they can control my body while I remain in control of my voice." Desmond elaborated. "Except, it seems easier then for them to take over the talking."

Shaun shrugged helplessly.

"Finish eating." Lucy instructed. "We can figure out how this is working later."

"Ezio, stop it." Desmond cut across her words. "I don't need to know what you think about her!"

Lucy felt a hint of blush on her cheeks, bewildered by what kind of conversation the young Italian was attempting to have with Desmond.

"Sorry." Desmond apologized before finishing his breakfast and making his way to the Animus.

"Come on, Altair." Desmond encourage, trying to take control over his body again. "We have to do this."

"Desmond?" Lucy stared at him in worry.

"Altair doesn't like the Animus." Desmond informed her with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Come on, Altair. It's going to be okay. I spent almost a whole week in the Animus before. It's not so bad."

"Some great Master Assassin." Shaun muttered from his corner.

Lucy was glad Shaun's back was turned for the look Desmond gave the man would have killed on impact.

Sitting down in the chair, Desmond tried to relax as Rebecca hooked him up.

"Good luck." She smiled at him as the room blotched out of existence.

* * *

Desmond had thought full synchronization with Ezio would have made his journey through the Animus easier, but he had been wrong. Ezio did not give Desmond control as often as Desmond felt he needed and the Italian's emotions seemed to reach all the way to the bone. He could feel the roller coaster ride of feelings the younger Assassin felt and the frequent dips into depression thanks to the loss of his father. Rage boiled up with each vengeful act of violence and Desmond wasn't sure if he was solving Ezio's problem or making it worse.

"Maybe revenge isn't the answer, Ezio." He commented as they made their way towards the villa. "Maybe, it's what's making you so angry all of the time."

"Stai zitto." Ezio hissed, stepping quicker. "You do not know what you're talking about, Desmond. You did not watch your father and brothers be hanged."

"I understand your feelings." Altair cut into the conversation. "I understand the loss you feel, but Desmond is right. You should not see this as revenge. Revenge should not be your goal, but to bring peace and protect your people."

"Stai zitto!" Ezio snapped. "I don't need to be told how to feel!"

Desmond and Altair gave up on reasoning with the young Assassin, but by morning Ezio apologized.

"You are right." He confessed reluctantly. "Revenge should not be what I seek, but...it is so hard..."

"I know. Revenge is a honeyed poison. It tastes sweet, but it will always destroy you."

Altair's words always made Desmond's chest tighten. Ever since running from Abstergo, Desmond swore his connection with Altair was far closer than best friends. It felt more like they were brothers and Desmond secretly wished he never had to say good-bye.

"We're pulling you out, Desmond." Lucy informed him over the microphone.

White blocked out all sight and then he was pushing himself out of the Animus.

"Ugh..." He groaned. "I don't feel so good."

"Come on." Lucy waved him to follow her. "Let's see how you've improved."

"All right." He stood, trying to get blood flow back into his fingers and toes. "Wait. Altair? Ezio? You there?"

The three others in the room looked up from their work to stare at him.

"Okay." He nodded. "I'm ready."

"Desmond." Lucy walked up to him. "You can't use them to do this. They need to go back to their memories."

"They're just going to help me get used to it in real life."

She nodded, but she didn't trust him, making a mental note to check for any changes in personality while he was training.

"This way."

They found themselves in the garage and she asked him to set up their defense system.

Following Altair's instructions Desmond began to move around the facility, turning on switches and trying not to fall to his death.

"You are doing much better, fratello." Ezio commended him. "I can still feel how your body finds this unnatural. This isn't good."

"I'm not built for this." Desmond said, not sure if he was talking to Ezio or Lucy.

"You don't need to worry about it, Desmond." Lucy said. "As long as your mind knows what to do, your body will follow."

"You could pull something." Altair told him. "You could break bones or cause serious damage to your body if it is unaccustomed to our work."

"Altair is right." Desmond stated.

"Desmond." Lucy gave him a worried look. "I don't know if you haven't figured this out yet or not, but I can't actually hear Altair. If he's talking to you, chances are I have no idea."

"Oh." Desmond rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Um, well. He said I could hurt myself if my body isn't trained right."

Lucy exhaled heavily. "Yes, that is always a possibility, but there isn't many options."

"Let us train him." Altair said, but Desmond knew Lucy couldn't hear the Syrian. "We can teach him properly."

"There isn't enough time, Altair." Desmond informed the Master Assassin. "This is the quickest way."

"You cannot cut short proper training." Altair argued. "You will damage yourself and it will all be for naught."

"I agree with Altair." Ezio put in. "You should be training here with your body, not just your mind."

"I want to, honestly, brothers." Desmond told them. "But I just don't have enough time. I'm sorry. Let me just keep training like this. I will train physically when the opportunity presents itself."

"Sorry to interrupt the conversation," Lucy stepped forward, giving Desmond a pinched-brow look. "But we should probably return to the Animus."

"Right." Desmond wished he could melt into the floor for how embarrassed he was. "Sorry."

"Yeah, try to hold those conversations in private. It's a little creepy."

"Yeah...I can imagine."

"She's rude." Altair grumbled.

"She's feisty." Ezio corrected. "There is a difference."

"I don't like this 'feisty'."

"That only means you don't know how to handle a woman."

Desmond was sure if the two had been tangible, Ezio would have been punched.

"You are a foul vulgar degenerate." Altair snapped at the other Assassin. "I swear by the Creed, you do not deserve the title of Assassin."

"Easy, Altair." Desmond quickly tried to get between the two. "He's just poking fun. He doesn't mean anything by it."

Ezio was already insulted though and Desmond was too late.

"I think our caro fratello is lacking as a man." Ezio seethed. "Clearly he has no confidence in his verile."

"Ezio!" Desmond grabbed hold of the younger Assassin's shirt. "Shut up! You're going to piss..."

"You are a pretentious, conceited, and gaudy waste of the Creed." Altair shot back, anger flaring up after so many hours putting up with Ezio's extravagant personality, which was the complete opposite of himself. "Why anyone would think to give you a blade is beyond me."

"Altair!" Desmond shoved his hand against the Syrian's chest. "S-stop!"

"This coming from you?" Ezio laughed mirthlessly. "I've seen Desmond's memories of you. Your head was so full of yourself I'm sure it was your own image you used to get off to!"

"Ezio!"

"I've never held the arrogance you hold!" Altair roared. "You think every woman kisses your feet and every man holds jealousy for the very breath you breathe. You are wrong! It is only your imagination that makes you believe woman crave you and men envy you! All women see in you are the coins in your pocket!"

"Why you piccolo bastardo!"

"Stop!" Desmond shouted, shoving them away from each other and hoping they didn't draw blades.

Abruptly, he realized what he was doing and released them, stepping back as he did. His shock prevented him from seeing the two Assassins falling unceremoniously forward to the ground.

"Where are we?" He asked as the two Assassins groaned, picking themselves up and scowling at each other before glancing around.

"This is where we go when you sleep." Altair informed the young man playing host to them.

"You don't go back to Masyaf and the villa?" Desmond asked in disbelief.

"No." Ezio shrugged. "We get to put up with each other and Altair's memories of women, which I'm sure he threatened in order to bed."

"I swear by the Creed I'm going to kill you." Altair reached for the Italian, but Desmond stopped him.

"But why am I here?" Desmond asked, trying to keep them from arguing again.

"I don't know." Ezio shrugged. "You weren't here last night. Lucky you."

Desmond frowned. "If I'm sleeping, that means I passed out without even making it up the stairs. Great. Like I needed to be worried over by the others any more."

"Wake up then." Altair waved him to do so, clearly wanting the outside world to draw their focus away from each other.

Desmond hesitated before closing his eyes and trying to wake up. When his eyes opened, however, he found he hadn't awakened.

"What the?" He gazed at the two perplexed Assassins. "Wait. Why can't I wake up?"

He tried again, but still failure.

"Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!"

Another attempt was met with the same result.

"No!" His hands flew to his head, gripping it in horror. "I can't wake up!"

* * *

Altair sat still enough to be a statue. Ezio was pacing around in front of him, face pinched in thought and worry. Desmond was sitting beside Altair, sweating and exhausted.

What felt like an hour had passed and the Assassin-in-training had yet to get himself out of the world they'd found themselves trapped in. Though Ezio and Altair were sure Desmond was merely sleeping, they were constantly worried they were wrong. What if something worse had happened? Altair knew of people who'd received serious damage to their head. They'd fall asleep and never wake up. Desmond explained this was called a coma and could happen to anyone. Sometimes people could wake up from it, but sometimes they never would. The mentioning of this possibility had caused Desmond quite some distress and he had fallen silent soon after.

He had yet to speak again.

Ezio muttered a curse and spun on his heel to pace away from them. Altair glanced at his descendant, concerned and at a loss for what to do.

"Perhaps, you will wake soon." Altair suggested.

"What if I never do?" Desmond mumbled. "The Templars could win. I mean, I'm sure I'm not going to be a huge help, but every little bit helps. What if they win? What if they..."

"The world is full of questions." Altair told him. "And possibilities. There is still some time."

"There isn't enough of it."

"Stand, Desmond." Ezio commanded, strutting towards them. "I've managed to replicate Monteriggioni."

Desmond's eyes focused ahead and his mouth dropped at the sight. "How did you do that?"

"I figured out how to access your genetic memory." Ezio shrugged. "The same way you send us information about your world, I guess. I simply got it to exist here. While I can't help you out, I can teach you to be an Assassin."

Desmond gaped at the Italian in shock. "That's...amazing, Ezio."

"Of course, caro fratello." Ezio grinned proudly.

"You will need weapons as well for your training in fighting." Altair sighed as he stood and reached down a hand to help his descendant stand. "I'll see if I can't acquire some for you. Ezio, brother, if you would."

"Certo." Ezio placed a hand upon Desmond's back and began to move the man towards the city sprawled out before them. "Try to keep up, va bene?"

"Okay."

Desmond nodded and waited for Ezio to start before beginning to follow him. He wasn't nearly as good at free-running as Ezio was, but found he was picking up on the skill much quicker than he had anticipated. For some reason, after a few minutes of lagging and causing Ezio to mock him in laughter, he began to figure out the flow. He couldn't get hurt here. His several falls had proven this much to him. He could practice working on his own without relying on Ezio's guidance and skill to carry him through. Each leap and bound carried him closer to becoming a true Assassin and his confidence boosted as they ran the city.

After a while, Ezio paused and pointed to Altair, who was waving them to the training ring.

"I believe he's gotten the weapons you need." Ezio commented, waving back at the Master Assassin. "This will be good training for the both of us."

"Learning from the Great Altair." Desmond shrugged. "I never thought I'd find myself here."

Ezio grinned, putting an arm around the other. "Well, here you are. Let us go train, amico."

"Lead the way."

The Italian took off towards the training grounds and Desmond followed, keeping up better than he had ever hoped to.

"You are looking better." Altair informed Desmond when they arrived at the ring. "Let us now work on your fighting skills."

The hours began to roll by, Desmond astounded by how much he could learn in this world where none of them could get hurt. He was able to, as they found, perform a full kill without harming either of the Assassins, much to their amazement. The assassinations began to pile as he learned how to do aerial kills, kills from a hiding spot, and kills from below. He studied the art of the blade, downloading information from the two Assassins' training and putting it into use. They ran the cities of Monteriggioni, Jerusalem, Florence, Masyaf, Venice, and Damascus. He felt stronger than he had ever felt. He was more confident in his skills now than he had ever been while Altair or Ezio hosted him. For the first time since this madness had begun, he felt sure of himself.

"You are waking." Altair grabbed onto Desmond's arm, giving him a sure nod. "I can tell. You awake."

"I'll put this into good use." Desmond informed the two Assassins. "I won't let you down."

"We believe in you." Ezio grinned profusely.

"Safety and peace, brother." Altair pressed his right hand to his chest.

"To you as well." Desmond replied, mimicking the Master Assassin's actions.

Then his eyes opened.

* * *

Desmond wasn't too surprised to see Lucy gazing down at him in worry. This changed when she told him he'd suddenly fallen only a few moments ago rather than the hours it had seemed.

"You hit your head pretty hard." Lucy told him. "Do you want to go lie down?"

He shook his head, feeling the ache from where his head had slammed against the wall.

"I'm good." He said, standing. "I think I'm going to practice a little longer though. I don't think the Animus is good for me."

"Desmond, we're running out of time." Lucy stated. "You can't be wasting it by..."

"I need the exercise, Lucy." Desmond insisted. "Or all this training is for nothing."

"You have a half hour." Her eyes told him she was serious.

Sighing, he turned and began to practice what he had learned while 'sleeping'.

"Strange." Altair's voice whispered across his ear as Desmond balanced on a beam. "I swore you were sleeping."

"I was, sort of." Desmond replied. "But Shaun says the brain works really fast. Maybe, we were just moving faster than my body. It could be. None of us were in control of me right then because we were all in my head...damn, that sounds weird."

"It is weird, amico." Ezio chuckled. "But we're getting used to it. You shouldn't return to this Animus, Desmond. You should train with us. You will do much better, my friend."

"I think they want us to find something." Desmond admitted. "That's why they're having me link up with you Ezio, not Altair. They want me to find something that happened in your early life. I don't know what, but it's clearly important."

Altair gave a growl. "They are using you like the Templars did then?"

"It's not the same." Desmond argued. "They asked me."

"In a way, I suppose." Desmond imagined the Master Assassin shrugging. "But it'd be more accurate to say they forced you. They used guilt and tricks to get you to follow their instructions."

"You're too paranoid, Altair." Desmond argued.

"They made you?" Ezio put in, surprised. "Desmond! This isn't good! This Bleeding Affect sounds bad! It doesn't seem good for you."

"It isn't, technically." Desmond informed him. "But it's the quickest way to become an Assassin."

"This is not how one becomes an Assassin." Altair snapped and Desmond didn't miss the anger. "This is an insult to our Creed."

"Sorry." Desmond whispered.

"I am not angry at you, brother, but at those putting you through this." Altair grumbled, trying to conceal his fury. "They call themselves our brothers and sisters, yet they perform such heresy to the Creed. It is an insult to all we stand for. Regardless, I will assist you, though I recommend we abandon this Animus and continue your training outside with your true body. If it is possible to reach you while you sleep, we can train you in this state and you can practice while awake."

"Sounds good to me." Desmond nodded. "But I don't think the others will agree."

"Scopare loro." Ezio spat the words. "We don't need them, Desmond."

"Like I said," Desmond sighed, exasperated. "They're looking for something. I'm sure of it and I bet it's important."

"Probably." Ezio shrugged. "But who cares, amico? We should focus on what is good for you instead. The rest will fall into place."

"We'll see."

Desmond wasn't going to hold his breath. Though he knew Lucy was on his side and he had a good feeling about Rebecca as well (he couldn't say the same for Shaun), he knew the three were more interested in stopping the Templars than helping Desmond. Helping him was merely a perk to their true goal. If he became an Assassin then they had one more person to fight the Templars.

There wasn't really anything else to it.

* * *

Desmond sat in the Animus while Rebecca loaded him up. In his head he could hear the complaints of both of his ancestors, neither happy with his decision to merely go with the flow.

"If what you've said is true," Rebecca was saying. "Then we should be able to fast forward you to a later memory."

"The one you need." Desmond stated and noticed the nervousness Rebecca displayed. "I already know you're looking for something. If we can skip to it then let's. I don't like the idea of being in the Animus. Neither does Altair nor Ezio."

"Desmond, you could fall out of sync with Ezio." Lucy explained. "We need to be careful."

"Let's get this over with." He told Rebecca and the woman gave a nod a moment before his vision blurred.

* * *

Desmond opened his eyes to a grand alien-looking vault with technology surpassing any he had witnessed first hand.

"What is this?" Desmond asked, mouth open wide.

"Desmond?" Ezio's voice sounded faint when the Italian spoke. "Is that really you?"

"It's me. Where are we?"

"Desmond." Ezio choked and Desmond felt a sting of pain in the back of his mind. "You...were gone...so long. I thought...perhaps you had died."

"Ezio." Desmond tried to reach for the back of his head, but the Italian remained in control of movement. "Ouch. Altair. Can you feel that?"

"I don't think you're synched fully." Rebecca cut in. "Yup. Seems you did fall out of synch. We can't access this memory without causing too much damage. I'm pulling you to an earlier memory."

Desmond began to cough as he waited for the transfer. "Ezio, what happened?"

"So much." Ezio said, but he sounded distant. "They wish to speak to you."

"Speak to me?" Desmond frowned. "Who? Who wants to speak to me?"

"Minerva." Ezio mouthed, but Desmond couldn't understand him anymore. The Italian's lips continued to move, but no sound came out.

"I can't hear you!" Desmond shouted at the other Assassin. "Wait! I can't understand you!"

"Dezmund."

"Altair?"

"Something is wrong."

"I have to pull you out of the Animus." Rebecca stated. "Something is wrong."

"What's wrong, Altair?" Desmond asked the voice echoing through his head.

"I cannot tell you." Altair whispered.

"What do you mean, you can't tell me?"

Desmond felt a flair of panic in his chest and he spun around, finally realizing he was in the loading area of the Animus. Across from Altair stood, staring at him silently with his stern features.

"Dezmund." Altair's cold tone chilled the ex-bartender. "I will show you."

"Show me what?"

"The truth."

"We're aborting again, Desmond." Rebecca informed him.

"Yes, because clearly Rebecca is not as good an engineer as she claims she is." Shaun snapped.

"Shut up, asshole." Rebecca growled.

"Dezmund."

"Altair?"

The ex-bartender stared at his ancestor with growing worry, knowing Altair had something important to share with him, which the others couldn't see.

"Trust me." Altair mumbled and the Assassin-in-training's stomach lurched as he was forced from the Animus.

"Oh, god..." Desmond leaned over his lap, feeling sick. "Let's not do that again. I don't think I can be in the Animus any longer."

"We don't have much time, Desmond." Lucy said impatiently. "We have to access that memory of Ezio's."

"Trust me." Altair's voice sounded in Desmond's head. "You must trust me, Dezmund."

"I do."

"What?" Lucy's brow pricked up as she stared at Desmond.

"I mean, I know." Desmond corrected hastily. "Sorry. I don't feel good right now."

"You should rest." Rebecca suggested.

"Rest?" Shaun scoffed. "Rebecca, we don't have _time_ for him to be resting every two minutes! We need to locate that memory! It's important and imperative that we do and _quickly_!"

"And at what cost?" Rebecca stood. "Huh? I don't think you realize the kind of damage extensive use of the Animus can do to one's mind. We could kill him. We could make him go crazy. We could make him a comatose vegetable drooling over his pillow and fed through an IV."

"Thanks for the heads-up." Desmond grumbled.

"Trust me."

Desmond frowned and wished he could speak to Altair privately.

"Use your Eagle Vision." Altair instructed and the young Assassin reluctantly complied, confused and anxious.

All around him, three blue lights flickered over the ghostly figures of his comrades.

"Let go all thoughts." Altair advised him. "You must clear your mind. You must become neutral. See everyone as a potential enemy, Dezmund."

"I don't know." He unconsciously spoke aloud. "I don't know, Altair."

"Desmond?" Lucy approached him. "Why is your Eagle Vision activated?"

He closed his eyes, blocking her and the others out as he tried to obey Altair's commands.

When his eyes opened, he jumped back at the red flaring up in front of him.

"Lucy." He mumbled, staring at her in bewilderment. He couldn't move. His entire body felt stiff and tight. All of his muscles were tense and his heart was beating faster than when he had escaped Abstergo. "Lucy?"

Then he blacked out.

* * *

"What's wrong, Desmond?" Lucy asked, putting a hand on the man's shoulder.

His gaze dropped for a moment before lifting again and she knew Desmond no longer controlled his body. He stood, shoving her away from him, and glared at her as if she was the greatest evil he had ever witnessed.

"Des..." She hesitated, before guessing, "Altair?"

"How long have you served the Templars?" Altair asked, accusation on his tongue.

"I was a mole for years." Lucy explained hastily, baffled by the Assassin's glare. "About twelve now."

Altair's eyes were livid. "You have betrayed the Assassins for how many years now?"

"Betrayed?" She gaped at him, aware he'd seen through her, but she couldn't see how he was able to while Desmond had failed to. "I don't think you understand the term 'mole', Altair. I'm a spy inside of Abstergo, that place you escaped from with Desmond. Well, I was, but I'm not anymore."

"You're right." Altair nodded. "You are no longer a spy for the Assassins within Abstergo, but a spy for the Templars within the Brotherhood."

"This is crazy." Shaun argued, stepping forward, but a scowl from Altair gave him pause. "You have no proof."

"I see with my eyes what you fail to." Altair stated as if this was enough proof. "She is a traitor to our kind."

"That's a serious allegation." Rebecca put in. "We'd need more proof than...what you say you see."

Altair's eyes narrowed and he took a step back from the three. "You are hurting Dezmund. You do not care how much you hurt him. You see him only as a means to an end. You do not realize how badly you are ruining him. _She_ does not care."

He pointed at Lucy with a fierce glare on his features.

"I will not permit you to harm him any further." Altair stated. "I will not let my line die with him."

"Wait." Lucy took a step towards him. "Altair! You don't realize how important this is! We have to find this memory before the Templars do! If we don't..."

"If we do, you will successfully bring the information to the Templars." Altair interrupted. "And they will be one step closer than we are."

"You're wrong, Altair." She argued. "We..."

"You are a traitor." Altair snapped. "I do not trust you. Your words mean nothing to me."

"Hold on." Shaun tried to get the Assassin see reason. "What are you planning on doing?"

Altair inhaled and then turned to bolt from the room, figuring this would be answer enough.

"Ezio." He called as he rushed from the building with Lucy screaming after him. "You know this Italia. You can take us someplace safe?"

"Monteriggioni." Ezio answered. "I will show you the way."

"Lead on, brother."

As Ezio took over, the Italian asked, "What of Desmond? Do you believe he is all right?"

Altair hesitated in answer. "He has taken Lucy's betrayal terribly. I am not sure."

"Take care of him." Ezio ordered. "And, if you can, give me information about his world."

"I will do what I can."

The Syrian made no promises, well aware they had little hope of survival without the assistance of the other Assassins and Desmond.

* * *

It had only been a few hours since Altair and Ezio's escape from the Brotherhood headquarters and already they had slowed to a walk. Altair was constantly digging through Desmond's stored knowledge of the world, eventually figuring out they needed money and a train ticket. After acquiring both and finding themselves aboard a night train to a city near Monteriggioni, Ezio finally voiced a particular concern.

"I need to relieve myself." He whispered to Altair after ensuring no passengers were close enough to hear him.

"I believe I saw a sign for what Desmond calls a restroom." Altair said simply. "It was near the entrance."

"That is not the problem." Ezio informed the Syrian as he made his way towards the indicated compartment. "This is not my body and, to be honest, I do not feel comfortable...t-touching it."

Altair scoffed. "How old are you again?"

"A lot older than we last met, Altair." Ezio snarled. "Twenty years older to be exact."

Altair snorted his amusement. "I honestly couldn't tell."

"Stronzo." Ezio hissed as he slid into the restroom. "Wake Desmond."

"He will not wake." Altair informed the Italian. "You will have to perform the necessary duty without him."

Ezio cursed. "It is not so easy."

"I do not see your problem."

"Well, if you have no problem with it, you do it." Ezio snapped irritably.

"I am not in control."

"Thaen be in control." Ezio offered. "I am more than willing to let you."

Altair immediately changed tactics. "You should stay in control since you are the one who knows your way around Italy."

"And _not_ a man's body." Ezio shot back. "You are the older of us."

"I believe you just admitted you were twenty years my senior."

"I thought you beat me by three hundred." Ezio countered.

"Would you finish your business quickly?" Altair encouraged. "If you are over and done with it as quickly as possible, we can return to our seats and forget this ever happened."

Ezio grumbled, but proceeded to undo Desmond's pants since indeed there was no other way around this situation they were in.

"I swear when Desmond wakes I am giving him a talking to." Ezio muttered as he exited the restroom. "This has been nearly traumatizing."

"Are you sure you want to inform him of your molestation of his body?" Altair inquired sardonically, causing Ezio's face to burn with embarrassment.

"I swear I'm going to kill you if I can just figure out how." Ezio huffed as he took his seat.

"I'm sure you would if you could."

"Dannatamente ragione vorrei."

* * *

Ezio exited the train station and hailed a cab. It took some convincing and a lot of money waving, but he was able to ensure a ride to Monteriggioni. Once there, he made little work at all of reaching Villa Auditore.

"What..." He stared at the damaged property in surprise. "What happened here?"

"It's been six hundred years since you were here last." Altair informed the Italian. "I can only imagine."

Sighing, Ezio attempted to get inside the Sanctuary, but upon failure realized he needed to enter through the underground.

"This is a maze of traps." Altair gazed over their predicament. "Ezio. I do not think we can do this alone."

"What other options do we have?" Ezio asked in irritation. "There are not a lot of other safe places I can think of. I don't know if you realize this yet, but I haven't lived through my entire life yet through the Animus. I'm sure I'm missing information."

"If we were not so far away from Masyaf I would suggest we go there." Altair sighed.

"Last I heard the fortress stood unoccupied." Ezio informed the Syrian. "And that was six hundred years ago. You believe the villa looks bad? I can only imagine Masyaf."

Altair frowned. "As can I."

They continued to stare at the puzzle before them before Altair prodded Ezio to begin.

"We will not learn if it is impossible or not unless we try."

"To luck then." Ezio held up his hand as if in toast.

"To luck, brother."

* * *

"We are stuck." Altair grumbled as he leaped once more from the water towards the ledge, only to fail again. "We are stuck, Ezio!"

"Questo è il peggiore." Ezio regained control and swam towards the other side of the basin they'd landed themselves in. "Of all the places to get stuck in, we're in the fogna dannate."

"The what?" Altair snapped irritably.

"The sewers."

"We're in the _what_?"

"I already told you, grullo." Ezio wiped a hand over his face after pulling himself from the water. "Dannazione. I don't know how we're getting out of here, fratello."

Altair involuntarily shuddered and Ezio winced at the abrupt take-over.

"Ugh..." Altair complained. "It's getting more and more difficult for this body to differentiate between who is in control."

Ezio grimaced. "Yes. I noticed. It is also becoming easier and easier for us to switch between control. It used to be a bit of a struggle."

"Without Desmond to mediate between us, perhaps..." Altair wasn't sure he wanted to finish the thought, but it seemed Ezio understood.

"We have to wake him up."

"We have to get somewhere safe first."

"We cannot." Ezio argued, motioning towards the black water. "Unless we manage to become two people, it is impossible."

Altair peered around, gears in his mind turning rapidly in an attempt to figure out what to do.

"This is impossible."

"It can't be." Ezio rubbed his arms, feeling the chill of the underground wrap around him. "Come. We must try again."

"I hate the water." Altair muttered as he moved towards the edge.

Ezio frowned again. "Altair...we have to be more careful. You cannot simply take control whenever you see fit. I have a bad feeling about this becoming too easy. It could wipe Desmond...it could erase...and maybe we'll become stuck here with him, unable to return to our lives."

"They're just memories." Altair tried to explain as Desmond had for him. "They're memories of a life already complete."

"I don't care." Ezio shot back. "When they pushed him to the later memory, I lost you both. I returned to my life. I lived through it. When he returned, I was...I was shocked and...admittedly, happy. I thought he had gone for good. I thought I would never hear from him or experience his life again. We are meant to help him. Minerva was proof enough."

"Explain this Minerva." Altair suggested.

"In due time, Altair." Ezio agreed. "But we must get Desmond to safety first."

"Very well." Altair nodded. "Lead on."

Ezio thought about commenting over Altair's take-over, but decided against it. It was only natural to move with one's speech and the ease for which they were swapping places was inevitable. He simply hoped they made it to the Sanctuary and awakened Desmond in time before the three of them were lost.

"Let's try again."

* * *

Ezio lied down on the stone floor of the Sanctuary, out of breath and exhausted. Their journey through the underground had been tasking by all means of the word, leaving the young Assassin unsure of his own training. They had surpassed what they had thought feasibly possible with a body unaccustomed to their work and two minds floundering through the dark. Without light, it had been a challenging and stressful experience the Italian was reluctant to relive.

"We should...open the Sanctuary." Altair gasped out, taking control over Ezio's voice.

"Too tired." Ezio breathed. "So tired."

"Then I will move us."

Altair grasped control over Desmond's body, but rethought his initial intentions.

"Never mind." He slouched against the floor. "Desmond's body is not prepared for this."

"We will train him." Ezio stated factually. "We will train his body until we can awaken him."

"Ezio." Altair's tone sent worry fluttering through the Italian's stomach. "What if he never wakes?"

The Italian grimaced. "We will protect him even if he doesn't. It is our duty."

Altair sighed. "I am not so sure. I believe one's duty to their descendants ends once they have died and you and I have been dead for many years. It is not exactly...fair or right of us to interfere in his life."

"Shame on you, Altair." Ezio scowled, sitting up. "Desmond is our descendant. He asked for our help. We gave it to him. We cannot abandon him because of some sudden moral change of heart. He needs us. More than ever now that he is asleep. We must provide him with the aid he requires. Come. Let me try to speak to you of this Minerva. Perhaps you can make sense of her words."

* * *

"She seems to be a prophet." Altair mumbled, rubbing at the back of his head.

"Yet she called me the prophet." Ezio elaborated. "It was through me a message was to be delivered to Desmond. It was the purpose of my life."

"I do not believe in a life predestined." Altair argued. "We make our own destinies."

"Perhaps." Ezio shrugged. "I have come to terms with my experience. If it can save mankind from this calamity to befall us here then I am more than pleased with the life I had lived, even if it was merely for the purpose of delivering a message."

Altair grimaced. "I would not be satisfied with such an existence. I would want my own life to hold more purpose."

"Mine did." Ezio argued. "It held a lot more purpose. It stopped the Templars and then it served to stop the Templars in the future, long past my life's end. It will also serve to save this world. I can find no fault with how my life was spent."

Altair felt a jab of guilt. "And mine was ultimately used to assist the Templars. Through my memories, they learned of the locations of more Apples. Was this the purpose of my life? To assist the Templars in the end? To be the demise of this world?"

Ezio reached out a hand as if to comfort the other Assassin before remembering he was not there.

"Perhaps it is merely fate letting us all stand on equal footing."

"It is not fair to the whole for those wishing ill-will to possess the power of the Apple." Altair snarled. "It puts us all on uneven footing."

"True." Ezio mumbled. "Perhaps it is for the sake of Desmond."

"For his sake?" Altair scoffed. "How so?"

"This is his life." Ezio explained. "This is his journey. His life and journey require conflict in order for him to grow as a man and as an Assassin. Perhaps it is for his sake the Templars now possess the ability to access more Apples."

"I see." Altair shrugged. "Perhaps. Regardless, it does not leave me satisfied with my life."

Ezio made no comment as he finally stood. "Let us get something to eat."

"I agree with this plan." Altair nodded. "I am starving."

"Let me do the talking." Ezio insisted. "The last thing we need is for you to mess up your Italiano and draw suspicion."

"We are buying the food?" Altair sounded shocked. "I believe to keep from drawing suspicion, we should not interact with the town's people. Monterigioni is not a big city."

Ezio grimaced. "Perhaps you are right."

"I am."

Scowling, the Italian slipped out of the Sanctuary and into the ruined office which had once been Mario's study.

"Oh, my poor villa." He swept saddened eyes over the degraded interior before checking the sky. "It is still dark. We should hurry."

"Lead the way, brother."

An alarm and a mad dash back to the villa later found the Italian pressed against a wall of the Sanctuary, panting and laughing.

"Who knew they had such obnoxious parrots guarding their stores?" He chuckled, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"I do not believe that terrible noise came from a parrot." Altair grumbled, reaching for the small pile of food they'd managed to snag before rushing back to safety. "What on earth kind of food is this?"

"I have no idea." Ezio read the instructions to one of the packages. "What is this microwave?"

"I do not know."

"This needs hot water only." Ezio opened the package. "We should build a fire."

"Let us build it in the tunnels." Altair suggested. "To keep the Sanctuary free of smoke."

"Good advice."

"What shall we boil the water in?" Altair asked as he peered around the room for a pot he knew he would not find.

"Good point." Ezio frowned. "And what water?"

"Not from the sewers." Altair snarled.

"I wouldn't dream it."

"Good." Altair hesitated before looking at the package. "Can we eat it without the water?"

"It appears to be only dry noodles with seasoning and...dried vegetables." Ezio shrugged. "I do not see why we cannot."

"Then let's." Altair urged the other. "My stomach aches."

"Your stomach?" Ezio snorted and the two shared an anxious laugh. "Here's to good eating."

"Let us hope."

"This tastes terrible." Ezio wrinkled his nose. "Too much salt or...it is awful."

"We have bread at least." Altair motioned to the loaf they had snatched. "But we cannot waste any of this food."

"When in famine, waste not." Ezio sighed. "We are not in famine, Altair. Let's get something different."

"No." Altair argued. "We do not have the time to waste."

"You sound like..."

"Don't you even dare finish that sentence."

Ezio decided he was best not upsetting the Syrian.

"You eat it, Altair." Ezio insisted. "I cannot. I am accustomed to much better taste."

"Spoiled pompous brat." Altair muttered as he lifted the dried noodles to his lips.

"Well?"

"It is amazing!" Altair gaped at the food. "But how? There is so much salt, but it tastes incredible."

"Well, considering the desert food you grew up on, I am not surprised."

Altair muttered several curses in Arabic while Ezio laughed at him.

"Still," Altair began to eat the noodles quickly, ravenous from their long journey. "This is quite good. I do not understand your dislike for it."

Ezio shrugged helplessly. "We clearly have different tastes."

Once Altair had finished the noodles, he insisted they sleep.

"This body is exhausted." Altair explained to a nervous Ezio. "While our minds may not grow so, this body does. It is not healthy for Desmond to work without sleep. We must let his body rest or it will weaken rather than strengthen."

Ezio consented. "But we must wake often. I do not trust this place."

Altair agreed and took a seat between the statue of himself and the wall where he could keep an eye on both exits to the Sanctuary.

"Sleep well." Ezio yawned.

"You as well, brother."

* * *

**This is the first ten chapters combined of the original Animus Vox. I hope you enjoy. :)**


	2. Aliud est Verum

Chapter Two: _Aliud est Verum  
_

Desmond's eyes slowly opened and he gazed around the vault he was in. It seemed familiar, but in the daze of his mind he could not figure out where he was. Slowly, he stood, hand brushing across the alien runes of the wall beside him as he used it for support. A survey of his surroundings brought his attention to a glowing light, brighter than the blue ruins around him. Drawn to it like a moth to flames, he staggered over the smooth surface of gray-blue stone, resting his weight on columns and walls when he couldn't carry himself.

A figure appeared before him, clad in black, and he squinted against the bright light to make out the shadow's features.

"Ezio?" He asked, reaching a hand towards the Italian. "Ezio? Help me."

"Listen to me." The light spoke suddenly and Desmond froze to stare at it, realizing now it was a person. "Desmond."

"Desmond?" Ezio peered around the room. "He is not here! He abandoned me! I cannot reach him! If you have a message for him, you should have delivered it sooner."

"Silence, prophet." The woman said, but her tone was not angry. "This message is not for you, but for someone else. You are the medium through which it shall be spoken."

Ezio glanced around, but apparently could not see Desmond.

"Desmond." The woman looked straight at Desmond, her golden eyes meeting his.

She could see him.

She spoke of a calamity to befall mankind and how he could prevent it from happening. He listened silently, fascinated and shocked beyond words.

"This is your destiny." She stated. "Desmond."

"Wait..." He found his tongue somehow. "This is...impossible! Ezio shouldn't be talking about me! I can't change the past. It is only a memory! I'm only reliving memories! You need to explain this! How do you know I am here? How do you know I can see you and hear you?"

"Desmond?" Ezio suddenly said and Desmond turned to look at the other. "Is that really you?"

Desmond's brows furrowed in deeper confusion.

"Desmond. You...were gone...so long. I thought...perhaps you had died."

"This isn't possible." Desmond whispered before looking straight at the woman. "This isn't possible!"

"Nothing is true;" She said and his eyes widened. "Everything is permitted."

"How?" He called, reaching for her. "Explain this! How can I have changed the past?"

"Past?" She smiled, but it was a bittersweet motion. "Present? Future? Who is to say they are so different? Who is to say time exists at all? Perhaps, all things happen at once and your actions in this perceived future can affect the actions of the past? What is history, but what the survivors and victors write? Nothing is true; everything is permitted."

"I don't understand!" Desmond shouted, trying to right himself, but it felt as if he had weights tied to his sides, pulling him down. "Explain!"

"Good luck, Desmond." She whispered and the room began to fade away, much like when Desmond sat in the Animus and was leaving an area.

"No!" He yelled, reaching towards her. "I have so many questions!"

"Come back, Dezmund."

He flinched at the new voice.

"Come back."

"Altair?" He turned around and gazed at the ghostly image of the Syrian Assassin. "Altair."

"Come back, Dezmund." Altair encouraged in a silky voice as light as a feather on the wind. "Come back."

Desmond took a step towards the Syrian and a bit of the weight disappeared. He took another, back straightening as he abandoned the memory of Ezio. Altair held out his hand and Desmond reached for him with each quickening step. His hand grasped the Syrian's and Altair smiled for a brief moment.

"Brother."

* * *

Desmond's eyes opened and he stood, feeling much better than he had since Abstergo had abducted him. He instantly recognized his surroundings as a ruined version of the Sanctuary beneath the Villa Auditore and he immediately wondered how he had gotten here.

"You awake!" Ezio's voice rejoiced suddenly, startling him. "Bentornato, mio buon amico."

"Ezio." Desmond grinned at the room. "You can see me?"

"Well, no." The Italian laughed. "But I know you are awake and I am here! _You_ are here! We are all here!"

"Altair?" Desmond asked, hopefully.

"Yes, brother?" Altair responded and Desmond relaxed a fraction.

"Clearly, I am not good enough for him." Ezio scoffed. "Eh, Desmond? We are starving and tired of parrots screaming at us everytime we break into a store. Could you perhaps teach us to buy food in this place?"

"We're in Monteriggioni?"

Ezio motioned to their surroundings, startling Desmond again.

"How did you take control so easily?" Desmond asked in perplexity and alarm.

Ezio hesitated. "Um...well, do not be mad, but you were gone for a long time."

"Really?" Desmond frowned. "But it felt like only a second."

"Theory of relativity?" Altair suggested.

"Where did you learn that?" Desmond asked in awe.

"Your memories." Altair shrugged. "We had no choice, but to make use of them. We have learned...a lot."

"Like these _magazines_ you seem to favor." Ezio laughed heartily. "I tried to find some, but it appears Monteriggioni does not sell them. Of course, we are in Italia. I do not see why anyone would need pictures when they can find themselves a woman more than willing to..."

"I cannot believe you two went through my memories!" Desmond interrupted, heat rising to his cheeks. "That's personal!"

"Yes, because you reliving our lives isn't an infringement on our privacy in the least." Altair's brow rose and Desmond felt a stab of guilt.

"If I had known you were enjoying that night with Christina with me," Ezio at first sounded threatening, but switched to light-hearted. "I would have made it a little bit more jealous-worthy."

"You are such a..." Desmond started.

"We have trained your body over the past couple of weeks." Altair cut across him. "You will find you are much more prepared than you were before."

"You...trained for me?" Desmond asked, surprised.

"Yes." Altair nodded. "We are sorry, but when you fell unconscious from the shock of the betrayal..."

"Betrayal?" Desmond furrowed his brow before the memories came rushing back. His stomach seemed to tie itself in knots and his chest ached. "Oh...Lucy."

"Yes." Altair continued without hesitation. "We could not quickly convince the other two working with you of Lucy's betrayal, so we ran. We brought you to Monteriggioni for safe-keeping and to train."

"But we cannot guarantee your safety here any longer." Ezio put in. "We are sure the Assassins and Templars are looking for you. It is nightfall, I am sure. You should take a run around the town, test your new skills, and then we should be moving."

"To where?" Desmond asked. "Ezio. I saw your memory from the vault."

"You did?" Ezio asked in surprise.

"Yes. We have to do something, but I don't know how! We need to get some sort of lead. I'm thinking it's in your memories somewhere."

"We are not going to an Animus." Ezio argued sternly. "I will not endure that...torture machine again."

"She said something to me." Desmond stated. "I think your mind had already left to join me. She said...or she hinted it may be possible for time to exist all at once, that the past and present are happening together. I think I've heard of that theory: time flow is only an illusion. I don't know if what she says is true, but it could be when I 'relived' your memories, I may have actually changed some things."

"Demon." Altair snarled, but Desmond was not surprised at the outburst. "I knew you were up to something bad."

"_I_ wasn't trying to change anything." Desmond argued. "I had no choice. "Anyways, what I'm trying to get at is...it may be possible for me to relive your memories, Ezio, without using the Animus."

"But how?" Ezio asked, confused. "I do not see how you will get back to my time without using some sort of contraption."

"I don't know." Desmond frowned. "But I think when they were 'accessing the genetic memories', they were actually just erasing the line between my time here and your time there."

"This..." Altair put a hand to his forehead. "Is making me feel ill in the head."

Ezio agreed. "It is a hard concept to wrap my mind around, fratello."

"I don't know." Desmond sighed. "Let's just go for a run and I'll try to organize my thoughts."

"Very well." Ezio moved towards the stairs.

"Wait. Wait. Wait." Desmond halted their movement. "I have to control my body, Ezio."

"Oh." Ezio grinned sheepishly. "My apologies, fratello."

"All right."

Desmond walked up the stairs, feeling slightly better now he was in full control. At the top, he gave pause.

"What is that symbol?" He asked, pointing at the pyramid before them.

"I do not know." Ezio shrugged. "It was there when we arrived. We looked over it with Eagle Vision and it appears there are numbers written there as well. I do not know what it could mean."

"Huh?" Desmond used his Eagle Vision to see the numbers, but they left him just as perplexed as before. "Weird."

"Shall we continue?" Altair suggested.

"Yeah." Desmond opened up the door and took a step out.

"Duck!" Ezio shouted and Desmond immediately complied.

The sound of splintering wood erupted over his head and his eyes rose to stare at the five standing in the ruined room.

He didn't need Eagle Vision to know they were all trained Assassins.

"So much for carefree running." He muttered, staring at the lethal predators before him.

"Do not fight!" Altair instructed. "You are outnumbered and without weapons! Run, Dezmund!"

"Shit."

Desmond dove for the exit as the Assassins moved to stop him.

In the back of his mind, he swore he heard Ezio praying.

* * *

The rooftops were too familiar. The actions were too easy to perform. The line between Desmond and Ezio seemed to disappear as the young Assassin-in-Training bolted from his pursuers. Behind him, or more accurately, at the back of his head, Altair urged them along certain paths, each leading them out of danger. Alien words scratched the sky.

"What are they saying?" Desmond asked, inhaling deeply.

"It sounds French." Ezio guessed. "But I cannot figure the dialect. I think they're saying...they don't want you hurt. You are...valuable...to be brought in alive."

"French?" Desmond furrowed his brows. "I get it. They didn't have any Italian allies, so they brought in a French group."

"Dezmund!"

Desmond dove to the side, but the action, which sent him away from his attacker, caused him to topple over the edge of the roof. He hit the ground harder than he wanted to and lost his momentum in the process. He was surrounded within an instance.

"Do not run." One of the Assassins breathed out in a heavy French accent, trying to regulate the sharp intakes of breath. "We are your ally. Your friend, Desmond Mile."

Stiffly, Desmond stood and watched as the already tense Assassins flinched in reaction. "How do I know you are a friend?"

"We are of zee Bruzer'ood." The speaking Assassin informed him. "We are your friend."

"How can I trust you?"

"I do not know 'ow to prove it to you." The Assassin continued. "Your fazer, William Mile, sent us to find you."

"My dad?" Desmond felt a leap of emotions in his chest, but he wasn't sure what kind of emotions they were. "He...it was him that sent you? Not Lucy?"

"Mademoiselle Stillman is being detained for questioning." The Assassin informed him. "Zis betrayal will be looked into and punished accordingly."

"She is being detained?"

"Oui."

"You...believed me?" His brows were furrowed deeply as he stared at the other Assassin.

"What 'appened between you and 'er was reported by Monsieur 'Asting to Monsieur Mile. It was zee decision of Monsieur Mile to 'ave Lucy detained. It appears 'e believed you."

Desmond ran a hand over his head, removing his hood in the process. "What's your name?"

"Nolan Fevre." The Assassin placed his left hand to his chest flat in a ritual Desmond had grown accustomed to while Altair. "We are your friend, frère."

Desmond swallowed hard, not sure whether or not to trust them. Following Ezio's encouragement, he used his Eagle Vision, not surprised when the other Assassins blanched at it.

"I trust you have good intent." He said, returning to his normal sight. "But what do you want with me?"

"Your memories contain..."

"No." Desmond cut across Nolan. "I will not return to the Animus. I _can't_."

Nolan stared at Desmond for a long moment before signaling the other Assassins.

Instantly on the alert, Desmond crouched for attack, but watched instead as the other Assassins lowered their guard.

"We will not force you into zee Animus." Nolan stated. "However, we urge you to accompany us to a safe 'ouse. You 'ave endangered yourself and zee Bruzer'ood by running off like zat. We cannot risk zee Templars getting a'old of you. Zey will not be as kind as us. Zey will force you back into zee Animus against your will."

"I understand." Desmond nodded, relaxing a fraction. "As long as you don't try to handcuff me or anything, I'll come willingly."

"Zis way, frère."

"Desmond." Ezio's worry made his descendant instantly wary. "Are you so sure we can trust them? Zese Frenchmen?"

He wanted to reply, but decided against it since he was unsure whether the Assassins knew of his particular predicament.

"Do not be insulting to our brethren." Altair stated. "We will accompany them until they prove themselves one way or another."

"They seemed friendly enough." Ezio muttered. "But Lucy did as well. She betrayed us. How are we so sure the Brotherhood is comprised entirely of those trustworthy to us? They could be traitors."

"My own Grand Master was a traitor." Altair admitted. "But I trusted those within the Brotherhood. There will always be traitors. This does not mean the whole should be punished with distrust. Be wary, but give them a portion of your trust until they prove themselves undeserving of it."

"Wise words." Ezio scowled. "But I still am unsure. We shall see whether or not they are worth our trust. Be on your guard, Desmond."

He answered them with a silent nod.

* * *

"Where are we going?" Desmond asked as he sat in the back seat of a car with an Assassin beside him and Nolan driving. The other three had taken a different vehicle and route and he figured he wouldn't be seeing them again.

"Zere is a safe 'ouse in France." Nolan explained. "But it will be difficult sneaking you across zee border since zee Templars are watching it. We are waiting for anuzer team to clear zee way."

"When will that happen?"

"I do not know." Nolan shrugged. "I am awaiting furzer instruction. We are to meet anuzer team at a checkpoint first. Zere we will receive furzer instruction."

"And we can trust them?"

Nolan gave a weak smile, which seemed to come unnaturally upon his hardened features. "One traitor does not make zee rest of us. We are your friend. We will get you to safety. I assure you."

"There are never any guarantees." Desmond pointed out.

"You are very much an Assassin." Nolan commented approvingly. "Your mindset at least. You are right. Zere are never any guarantees, but we are still your friend. We will 'elp you anyway we can."

"I don't get it though." Desmond frowned. "I'm just one guy. Why send a team...why _risk_ a team to come get me?"

Nolan's eyes flicked to the rearview mirror and met Desmond's.

"Monsieur 'Astings mentioned you 'ad fully synchronized wiz your ancestors, Altair and Ezio." Nolan explained slowly. "And 'e believed you were a zret to us. For zee safety of zee Assassins beneaz my command, I was informed to bring a whole team in case you put up a fight. We were not to 'arm you if possible, but we were to bring you to safety, even if it was against your will. Zee Templars are dangerous and zee memories you possess are a powerful tool in zeir control. We were given zis much information to go off of. I took no chances when searching for you."

"And how did you know where we were?" Desmond's eyes narrowed.

"We?" The Frenchman smiled at the startled look on Desmond's face. "Monsieur 'Astings said zee control Ezio and Altair 'ad over you would most likely drive zem to zee closest safe 'ouse zey knew of, which was, correctly, Monteriggioni and zee old Sanctuary 'idden zere."

Desmond grimaced.

"And you knew to try through the door?"

"We did not know of any uzer entrance." Nolan stated. "From signs around zee door, we knew it 'ad been opened recently and 'oped it was because of your use. We were correct, zankfully."

"And you decided to attack me outright instead of talk?"

Nolan hesitated. "Zee way 'Astings described you 'ad me worried for zee safety of my bruzers. I apologize for not instilling some trust in you."

"You were afraid Altair would make mincemeat of your men?" Desmond couldn't keep back the laugh in his voice.

"Oui." Nolan answered in complete seriousness. "Is it true? Does Altair 'ave some control over you?"

Desmond pondered his answer, unsure of how to respond.

"I wouldn't say it's 'control' exactly." He replied. "More like...helping. I don't know how to describe it. He and Ezio are here with me. They help me. Sure, they can take control on a whim and it's sayonara then to everyone around me, but they let me have control most of the time."

"Except for when you ran."

"No." Desmond contemplated his words again. "I was...unconscious."

Nolan raised an eyebrow.

"The shock of finding out Lucy was an enemy, I guess, caused me to pass out. Altair and Ezio were trying to protect me from the Animus because they thought it was bad for me. They ran and took me to Monteriggioni."

"And you trust zeir judgement?"

"Yes." He said this without hesitation. "Fully."

Nolan stared ahead without emotion, but Desmond could tell he was thinking.

"Dezmund." Altair whispered. "I think you told him too much."

"He could be a Templar." Ezio put in.

"He is not a Templar." Altair scoffed. "I simply believe this is too much for an ordinary mind to swallow...it's hard enough on us who are living through it."

"I got over the possession and genetic memories." Ezio stated in a boastful tone. "It's this new concept Desmond has introduced that I can't seem to get."

"It is growing on me." Altair admitted casually. "The more I think about it, the more I believe it could be possible. I also have another idea. The fact the three of us look so much alike, including the scar, could mean we are actually all the same person, merely a reincarnation of one another. We could be one person living through three seperate lives, hence why we can relive each others' experiences and possess one anothers' bodies."

Ezio grabbed at his head. "Head aching...too much...weirdness.."

"Are you all right?" Nolan asked and Desmond realized he had gripped his head.

"Uh..." He floundered over an answer. "It's...just...there's a lot going on and my head kind of hurts."

Nolan's brow rose again. "I see. We will be at zee checkpoint shortly. You should rest."

"Can't." Desmond glanced out the window at the passing scenery. "I'm way too nervous."

Nolan nodded. "I understand."

Desmond was glad the Frenchman stopped talking. It gave him a chance to focus on the inner turmoil his ancestors had started.

* * *

Desmond shifted against his seat as he waited for the two Assassins to inform him it was safe to get out of the car. Nolan was speaking with another man, which Desmond assumed was another Assassin from the Brotherhood while the other French Assassin inspected their surroundings.

Nolan turned to Desmond and waved him over. Hesitantly, the Assassin-in-Training opened the door.

"Inspect your surroundings." Altair advised and Desmond immediately activated his Eagle Vision. "No enemies in sight. There are several possible escape routes. The newcomer is a friend. Now return to your regular vision."

Desmond obeyed and listened as Ezio began to speak.

"You will want to be wary of that alleyway. It could contain a trap. There are not a lot of people here, so no witnesses if things get ugly. This can be a benefit if you need to run as there will be no hindrance, but also could be detrimental as you will have to go far to finding hiding."

"And I doubt haystacks work in this world." Altair put in.

"Yes. I doubt so as well." Ezio agreed.

"We are going inside." Nolan informed the younger man when he stopped before him. "Monsieur 'Astings is awaiting you."

"Thanks." Desmond flinched a nervous smile as the new Assassin began to lead the way while Nolan tailed Desmond. "What's Shaun doing here?"

"Since 'e could not cross ze border eizer, 'e awaits your transportation to make 'is own move into France." Nolan explained. "From zere you will be going to zee United States to your fazer."

"Great."

Desmond's gut tightened at the idea of a reunion with his father, whom he hadn't seen since he was sixteen.

"Oh, there you are."

His stomach squirmed at the sound of Shaun's voice.

"Did you have fun stressing everyone out?" Shaun asked in a sarcastic tone as he approached from a doorway. "Was it entertaining to have the entire Brotherhood stop what they were doing to search for you? Was it? Because it wasn't fun on this end."

Altair pointed at the British man. "I do not like you."

"You tell him, Altair." Ezio rolled his eyes.

"Still suffering from DID, I see." Shaun scrunched up his features. "Wonderful. Anyone know a psychiatrist to take care of this nutcase?"

"Be nice, Shaun." Rebecca stated, coming up beside the bespectacled man. "Glad to see you in one piece, Desmond. We were worried."

"Worried?" Shaun gave a fake laugh. "We were bloody horrified! What if Abstergo got ahold of you, Mr. Miles? What then? I think you'd be having a bit more problems than Altair and Ezio, is what."

"Can it, Shaun." Rebecca gave her partner a glare.

"Oh, yes." Shaun threw up his hands in exasperation. "Let's just all be fine and dandy with Desmond risking the peace and sanctity of our entire world. Yes, let's be all hunky dory over Desmond nearly handing Abstergo everything they needed. Let's be..."

"Hey." Desmond cut in, irritated. "If it hadn't been for Altair, you would have been handing Abstergo everything they needed..._through_ Lucy."

He watched as Shaun flinched and Rebecca cast her gaze downward.

"We still don't have any proof Altair isn't some paranoid illusion your mind is making up because of extended periods of time in the Animus." Shaun breathed out. "And until we have proof of Lucy's betrayal, you're just going to have to keep such comments to yourself."

"Yes, because it's easy on _me_ to find out the person who _rescued_ me from Abstergo was only using me." Desmond shot back.

"I knew Lucy." Rebecca suddenly spoke up. "And I don't think...it just sounds so unlike her to betray the Brotherhood."

"Twelve years." Desmond ground out. "_Twelve_ _years_ working for Abstergo. And then all the years before without contact with the Brotherhood. Is it really all that surprising? She was cut off from them. Why would she support them?"

"We all trusted William Miles judgement of her." Rebecca said, silencing him. "Yes. Your father. He was the one who trained Lucy. He taught her to be an Assassin. It was also his decision to make her a mole in Abstergo. We trusted...we still trust his judgment."

"I can't help what I see, Rebecca." Desmond swallowed down his anger. "I'm just trying to help you all see too."

"Well, maybe you're wrong." Shaun's words were ice on Desmond's ears. "Maybe you are confused. Maybe you've lost your mind. The Animus, according to Lucy, always results in insanity if one spends too much time in it. Perhaps you spent more time in it than your little mind can handle. Though from the data we have on you, you haven't spent nearly as much time in it as Subject 16 did."

Altair scowled at the man. "If you are aware of the reprocussions of using the Animus, why do you put Desmond through it? Wouldn't it be best to let him live his life away from such a torturous machine?"

"Why cause him to suffer?" Ezio added. "Why risk his sanity?"

Shaun's brows were up and Desmond knew Nolan was doing his best to retain a serious face.

"The memories he has are important to our mission." Shaun argued. "And they could save the world, not that that seems to matter to you anymore now that you're only memories. Besides, Desmond agreed."

"You tricked him." Ezio snapped.

"You are forcing him through guilt." Altair threw in.

"Enough, guys!" Desmond tried to wave them off. "I can defend myself! Jeez."

"Clearly, not." Shaun drawled.

"Shut up." Desmond growled. "I don't think I can handle the Animus anymore."

"What?" Shaun blanched. "But we were so close! Desmond, you can't just walk away now! We have to finish what we started! The whole world could be resting on the shoulders of this! What if you're the cause of the world's calamity? Could you really live with yourself?"

"Well, if the world falls into calamity I'll be either dead or brainwashed, so I won't really have to live with it, now, will I?" Desmond snapped back, causing Shaun to scoff at him again.

"Nice." Ezio approved with a grin.

"Well played." Altair agreed.

"You're acting like a child." Shaun hissed. "Don't be so bloody selfish."

"Selfish?" Altair stepped forward to grab the blond's sweater front. "You believe Desmond is being selfish? How about you? Are you not selfishly expecting too much of him? Would you like me to..."

"Easy, Altair." Rebecca tried to intervene. "Let's not turn Shaun into paste."

"Into what?" Altair glanced at her in momentary confusion before focusing on the bespectacled man. "No. Let's."

"I will not permit forced use of zee Animus." Nolan interrupted Altair's threatening. "You can relax...Altair, is it?"

Altair released Shaun gruffly, causing the Britain to stagger and fall.

"Yes." Altair faced Nolan and pressed his left hand to his chest. "Brother, I thank you for your kindness and understanding."

Nolan raised an eyebrow. "Do not zank me yet. I will leave zee decision up to Monsieur William Mile. It will be 'is decision."

Altair scowled. "I do not trust him. If he puts Desmond through the Animus, my respect for this Brotherhood will fall completely. Most of this Order is already out of my favor."

"I apologizing for not meeting your standards."

Altair couldn't tell if the man was being sarcastic or not, but Ezio had decided he had been.

"You stronzo!" Ezio lashed out. "Desmond is not some play thing you can just toss around at your own liesure! He is a human being! Or have you forgotten how to treat your fellow man? Or your brothers?"

Nolan seemed to have decided it was simply easier to apologize than to argue as he immediately did so, though with much more sincerity in his voice.

"You better be sorry." Ezio snarled. "Or I will make you."

"That is enough, Ezio." Altair interrupted. "You have made yourself look enough like a fool."

"A fool?" Ezio yelped back. "Come out here and say that to my face, stupido!"

"I cannot be the only one who finds this bizarre." Shaun commented.

"And worrisome." Rebecca threw in. "I mean, how are we sure it's really three separate consciences and not just Desmond taking on their personalities from having lived through too much of their lives?"

This gave the three pause.

"I can...hear them...in my head." Desmond explained, hoping this sufficed as an answer.

"That's called 'schizophrenia', Desmond." Shaun had to throw in his tidbit. "Which could explain your paranoia and rather disorganized speech and thinking."

"Voi, signore, sei un asino." Ezio motioned with his hand towards his mouth in the common Italian hand gesture for 'fuck you.'

"Oh, wonderful." Shaun rolled his eyes. "Being insulted in Italian by a DID schizophrenic. My day is getting better and better. How about yours, Rebecca?"

"You have to be the rudest person on the planet." She motioned for Desmond to follow her. "Come on. You have to be tired. There's a bed and food upstairs."

"I'm sorry." Desmond shook his head. "I can't sleep and I'm not hungry."

"Afraid we'll poison your or use sleeping medication?" Shaun suggested in annoyance. "Or maybe that we'll stick you in the Animus while you're resting. See? Paranoia. One of the major signs of a schizo."

"Si può succhiare le palle, è triste scusa per un essere umano." Ezio motioned towards his groin as he spoke. "E allora si può ottenere scopata da un sacerdote indossa il vestito di una puttana, non è stupido pallone."

"Translator, anyone?" Shaun asked.

"You don't want to know what he said." Desmond chuckled as he began to follow Rebecca.

In his head, Altair was laughing hysterically while Ezio continued his rant in Italian.

Desmond was happier than ever that they were there with him.

* * *

Desmond froze at the entrance to the room when his eyes rested upon the awaiting Animus.

"What's that doing in here?" He asked, his voice dangerously low.

"We're not going to put you in it." Rebecca assured him, rushing past to scoot the hot rod red chair to the side. "I-It's just in here because we had assumed you'd return to us for the purpose of helping the Brotherhood recover Ezio's Piece of Eden and the location of...and the memory with the information needed for our next mission."

Desmond's brow rose. "I'm not staying in this room."

"More paranoia, I see." Shaun drawled as he entered the room and headed towards his cluttered desk where he had set up all of his research and his computer. "You know, we have two Assassin teams here for the soul purpose of keeping you safe, Desmond. They've been pulled from the real work out there, fighting the Templars and all that actually important stuff, to sit around here helping you cope with your delicate little situation. Shouldn't you show at least some appreciation for the efforts the Brotherhood is making just for you?"

"I thought we were going to France?" Desmond looked at Nolan for confirmation.

"Zere 'as been a delay in crossing zee border." Nolan stated with a little uncertainty in his voice. "From what I 'ave learned, Abstergo 'as doubled its effort in locating you."

"Probably because they lost contact with Lucy." He grumbled, glancing around. "Well, is there somewhere else I can stay besides this room?"

"The princess is asking to be pampered." Shaun announced to no one in particular. "Please, someone, pamper him."

Desmond decided to ignore him and returned his attention to Nolan.

"Neither Altair nor Ezio are comortable with that machine. They have enough to deal with without having to put up with the Animus."

"I thought we clarified they were just in your head, Desmond?" Shaun gave him an incredulous look. "You know, memories only? You should try to put them back where they belong."

"No one would miss him." Ezio whispered to Desmond. "Just make it real subtle."

"You can go for the jugular." Altair advised. "Take him out without a sound."

Desmond smiled and covered his mouth at the confused look Nolan gave him.

"Sorry. Inside joke." Desmond said and watched the three in the room send him worried glances while the two in his head groaned.

"That wasn't funny, Desmond." Altair critisized him.

"You need to work on your sense of humor, amico."

It was too late though. Desmond was laughing now, wiping at the tears in his eyes.

"I'm really sorry." Desmond chuckled. "I'm kind of tired, but I don't know why...and there's a lot to deal with right now."

"Great." Shaun threw up his hands. "And we thought he hadn't gone crazy enough."

"Stop calling Desmond crazy, you ball-less freak of nature!" Ezio jumped to the defense, causing everyone in the room to start. "He's going through more than you can imagine, what with us here with him and the fate of the world resting on his shoulders thanks to some Minerva lady and Abstergo kidnapping him! You bad-mouthing him every time you open that useless trap of yours is not helping! You should show a little respect for what Desmond has already suffered through! If you don't..."

"Enough, Ezio!" Altair cut in. "You are not making matters any easier by possessing Desmond without his consent!"

"Like you didn't just do that!"

"I was trying to stop you from..."

"I'm not going to listen to you, Altair! You're a..."

"Don't you dare finish that sentence, novice!"

"Novice?" Ezio roared. "I am no novice, stronzo!"

"Desmond!" Rebecca rushed up to him. "Stop! Leave Desmond alone!"

Ezio looked at her in sheer disgust. "We are helping him! We've helped him more than any of you!"

"Well, I have." Altair corrected.

"And what have I done?" Ezio seethed. "Sat around on my ass?"

"Are you using that figuratively or..." Altair paused. "Because I think the literal is more accurate."

"Why you..."

"GUYS!" Desmond finally shoved them away. "Back off of each other's throats! How did you not kill each other while I was out?"

"He started it!" Ezio accused and Desmond felt his hand raise to point at the air ahead, though he knew Ezio meant Altair.

"I don't care who started it." Desmond snapped. "You're both acting like a couple of two-year-olds! Clearly, we're all tired. We need to get some rest."

The two Master Assassins sighed heavily and Desmond felt his body relax.

"Yes, I am tired." Altair admitted. "Tired of putting up with this Italian idiot."

"What did you..."

"Sleep then." Desmond cut across and looked at Rebecca hopefully. "Where can we sleep besides here?"

She fretted for a moment, as boggled by the scene she had just witnessed as the two men in the room with her.

"Um...there aren't any other beds. We were all just going to take turns napping was the plan."

Desmond cursed. "Great. I'll find a corner than."

"Don't be ridiculous." Shaun stood and grabbed him to shove him at the bed. "Go to sleep, you bloody git."

"You're a git." Desmond hissed.

"What's a git?" Altair and Ezio asked in unison and then looked at each other in suprise.

"We just both controlled the voice, didn't we?" Ezio asked after a moment.

"I'll be outside zee room." Nolan informed Desmond. "If you need me or 'ave more questions, feel free to talk to me."

"Thanks." Desmond smiled at the Frenchman, who gave a nod before exiting the room.

"He seems nice." Altair stated. "He doesn't seem like a threat in the least and he truly is worried about your use of the Animus, otherwise he'd be siding with...the devil and his associate."

"Oh, I like those nicknames." Ezio snickered. "But this Nolan...I'm not sure I trust him...yet."

"Shut up, you two." Desmond relaxed with his back to the wall and his face towards the Animus. "I'm trying to sleep."

"Sleep well, brother." Altair said with exasperation in his voice.

"Sleep well." Ezio added after a pause.

As Desmond closed his eyes, he swore he could see the two Assassins mouthing off to each other silently and he couldn't stop himself from smiling.

* * *

Desmond awoke with a start, feeling the close proximity, of another and flinched upon noticing an Assassin standing nearby.

"Sorry for waking you." The Assassin apologized as he began to remove a harness full of gear from his torso.

"No, it's good." Desmond got out of the bed, rubbing at his eyes. "How long was I out or do you not know?"

The Assassin gave a shrug. "You arrived here five hours ago."

"Not enough rest for you, Sleeping Beauty?" Shaun asked from where he sat at his desk.

Desmond ignored him.

"Thanks." He twitched a smile at the Assassin. "Do you know where the restroom is?"

"Nolan can show you." The Assassin waved vaguely at the door as he sat down on the bed.

"Thanks again."

Desmond left the Assassin and exited the room to find Nolan talking with the man from before.

"Ah, Desmond." Nolan waved him over. "Zere is food down below."

"Oh. Cool." Desmond stopped before the French Assassin. "Could you point me towards the bathroom?"

"Down below." Nolan motioned. "Zere is a short 'allway and zee bazroom is at zee end."

"Thanks."

"Try to 'urry." Nolan stated. "We may be leaving zee area soon."

"Right."

Desmond didn't believe the Assassin for even a moment, knowing they only wanted to keep tabs on him in case either of the personalities in control of his body decided to flee.

He took the steps down two at a time and gave the large garage a sweeping glance before spotting the hallway and heading towards it. The hallway was dark, lit only by a dull flickering yellow light at the end of it where the door to the bathroom stood open just a crack. Instant nervousness seized him. This was the type of hallway Freddy Kreuger and Pyramid Head killed their victims in, which meant it was the exact type of hallway Desmond should never be going down.

"There is nothing to be afraid of." He told himself in irritation. "You're twenty-five years old, a man, and an Assassin. There aren't any ghosts or monsters to kill you."

He started down the hallway, but the nervousness had yet to dissipate. A dripping could be heard echoing from the bathroom. The light was buzzing and crackling with each flick on and off. Claustrophobia took over and he swore the walls were shifting closer to him. He felt dizzy and the image before him swayed in and out of focus.

"What..."

He reached out towards the wall beside him and pressed against it as nausea bubbled up in his stomach. Ghosts began to flit across his vision, silvery blue mirages of fleeing townspeople and erupting canons.

"What..." He gasped for the disappearing air. "Is...going...is this...the Bleeding..."

"_Ezio_!" Desmond could hear Mario's voice in the distance. "_Ezio_!"

"Help me." Desmond reached out his hand as Ezio came into vision. "Help me."

Ezio turned quickly to run, but froze for a moment in surprise. He rushed forward and grabbed Desmond's extended hand.

"What are you doing here?" Ezio asked in bewilderment as he pulled Desmond to his feet.

"What the..." Desmond peered around and his mouth dropped at the sight before him.

He was in Monteriggioni...in 1500 A.D.

"Ezio!" Desmond gasped as he watched the buildings alit with flame and the rushing crowds of townspeople. "What is going on here?"

"The Borgia are attacking!" Ezio shouted, waving at the chaos ensuing around them.

"Who is this?" Mario asked, motioning towards Desmond.

"This is Desmond." Ezio explained hastily. "The one I spoke of."

"You told him about me?" Desmond gaped at the Italian.

"How else were we to solve the riddle without informing my allies of everything?" Ezio started running. "Come, Desmond! You must help me defend the walls."

"Wait!" Desmond started running after him. "I don't have any weapons!"

Ezio barely paused long enough to take a sword off of a fallen mercenary and tossing it to the Assassin-in-Training.

"How did I get here?" Desmond shouted. "Where you gone while I was sleeping?"

"I can explain later!" Ezio hollered back as he leaped off of the ledge onto the back of a horse. "Here! Desmond!"

"That looks painful!" Desmond responded, but made little hesitation to follow. "Oh, God...my balls..."

"Hold on!" Ezio kicked the horse into a gallop and Desmond clung to his back.

"I do not like this!" Desmond yelled, hiding his face into the back of Ezio.

"Duck!" Ezio commanded and as one they did so.

"How is this happening?" Desmond tightened his hold on the Italian.

"I will explain later, Desmond!" Ezio repeated in a harsher tone.

An explosion erupted before them and Ezio tried to turn the horse in time, but he failed. The horse and its riders toppled over one another and landed, thankfully, feet from each other.

"Ow..." Desmond stood, achingly, and hobbled after Ezio, who was already climbing up the wall.

"Hurry, Desmond!" Ezio called and then came toppling back when the wall in front of him collapsed.

"Ezio!"

"I'm fine!" Ezio assured him before resuming his climb. "Hurry!"

"I'm coming!"

Desmond shook of the pain in his muscles and began to rush up after the Italian. At the top, he gawked at the massive army surrounding the walls.

"The canon, Desmond!" Ezio instructed.

"I don't know how to operate a canon!" Desmond gasped.

"Do not think!" Ezio told him as he aimed the canon he was operating. "Just do it! Aim for their canons! Then take out the seige towers!"

Desmond dashed forward to the available canon and thrust his weight into turning it towards the Borgia canons. Like thunder, it rattled in his hands when he fired it and his mouth fell open when he actually found his mark. Five more times, he fired the canon, the force rattling his bones and causing his hands to go numb. A ringing filled his ears and he barely heard Ezio's scream to get out of the way.

"They are on the walls!" Ezio pointed towards a seige tower to their left. "Come! We will drive them off!"

"We are losing!" Desmond stated as he began to follow the Italian, but he was halted by a hard smack across his face.

"Do not say such things!" Ezio's eyes held anger Desmond had only ever felt when the Italian had lost his father and brothers.

"Lead on."

Desmond motioned encouragingly and the Italian turned swiftly on his heels. The battle on the wall did not take long to complete and soon they were rushing across the rooftops towards the gateway where the leader of the Borgia stood holding Caterina Sforza and Mario captive.

"No!" Desmond shouted as he saw the leader pointing an old gun at the head of Mario.

"Uncle!" Ezio hollered.

There was the sound of gunfire and Desmond's vision became spotted with light as seering fire flared in his chest. He blacked out to the sound of Altair calling to him.

* * *

"Wake up, Dezmund!"

Desmond's eyes blinked open for a moment, but he closed them upon seeing the flying ground beneath him.

"Ugh..."

"Wake up, Dezmund!"

Desmond tried again to open his eyes, yet couldn't seem to keep them open.

"Ezio?" He groaned, catching the scent of gunpowder.

"Desmond." Ezio's voice reached his ear and he realized the voice from earlier was that of Altair. "Good. You are awake. Can you walk?"

A spinning motion brought the world upright and Desmond immediately hunched over at the pain in his gut.

"Are you all right?" Ezio asked, placing a hand on the young man's shoulder.

"I don't feel good." Desmond replied, trying to get the dizziness to go away.

"We need to keep moving." Ezio pulled Desmond to his feet and the Assassin-in-Training immediately leaned into him for support.

"Let me help you."

Desmond's eyes reached upward and met those of Claudia as she approached him.

"It is like the lame trying to help the lame to walk." She shook her head in disbelief as she helped Desmond along the cavernous corridor.

"Are we beneath the Sanctuary?" He asked, looking to Ezio.

"We must hurry." Ezio began to lead them through the tunnel. "Come. We are being followed."

"Mario." Desmond coughed, putting a hand to his side beneath his armpit where burning pain was pulsing. "What about Mario?"

"He is dead." Ezio stated and Claudia gasped in response.

"I am so sorry, Ezio." Desmond swallowed down the lump forming in his throat.

Ezio glanced back at him. "Let us hurry."

The tunnels were like a maze and they were dangerous. Several times Desmond feared for his and Claudia's lives as they rushed as quickly as he could limp.

"There!" Ezio encouraged them. "The exit!"

"Thank god." Desmond gasped as he gimped towards the sunlight.

"The Borgia Army is circling the city!" A mercenary called as soon as they exited the cave.

"Claudia." Ezio turned towards his sister and mother. "Mother. You must go to Firenze."

"Where will you go?" Claudia asked as her brother called for a horse.

"I must go to Roma." Ezio told her.

"I will go with you." Desmond stated.

"You should go to Firenze." Ezio argued. "You are in need of a doctor."

Desmond wrinkled his nose. "I'm almost fine."

"You almost died." Ezio snapped.

"I think the bullet just grazed me." Desmond showed the Italian where red stained his sweatshirt. "See?"

"I do not know if you are lucky or if the Borgia are just bad shots." Ezio frowned as he mounted his steed. "Do we have another horse?"

"I cannot ride." Desmond admitted. "I don't know how."

"Useless." Ezio reached a hand to help Desmond up behind him. "We have much to discuss on our journey to Roma, Desmond."

"You don't say?" Desmond grumbled as the horse was urged forward.

After they had left behind the refugees of Monteriggioni, Ezio began to speak.

"How did you come to Monteriggioni?" Ezio asked.

"I was heading down a hallway when it seemed like the Bleeding Effect was happening. Then I saw you and I thought maybe I was in my head again. You saw me and helped me up and suddenly I was actually there."

"You looked like a ghost for a second." Ezio muttered. "When I touched you, there was a momentary chill and then you were flesh and blood. I was able to bring you to your feet."

"What happened after I went to sleep?"

"Altair and I were talking when I heard someone calling my name." Ezio was frowning. "I followed the voice and found myself back in the Vatican. Mario was there and I followed him out of the Vatican and home. Altair did not come with me. Is he with you?"

"I don't know." Desmond replied. "Altair?"

He waited for an answer, but none came.

"It appears not." Desmond didn't like the feeling, realizing he could not turn to his ancestor for advice. "I wonder what happened."

"Perhaps what you assumed." Ezio guessed. "If what you said was true, that time is merely a perception and that it all exists at once, then perhaps you simply crossed over into my perception of time."

"And Altair went missing during this cross over?" Desmond asked. "Ugh. I don't like this. It feels way more real than when I am in the Animus."

Ezio nodded. "Yes. I must agree. When I accepted you and we went into this Animus together, my life seemed to become surreal as if I was living it through another's eyes, even with me in control. This was part of my aggrivation."

"I can imagine." Desmond grimaced. "But this is real. I am really here."

Ezio was quiet for a few moments before admitting, "I am glad you are here."

"You are?" Desmond couldn't keep back his shock.

"Yes." Ezio's voice gave away the smile on his lips. "It is an honor to finally meet you, Desmond."

Desmond grinned. "Yeah. You too, Ezio."

They fell into silence for a little while as Desmond tried to ignore the pain in his side and Ezio contemplated the best route to Roma.

"Hey, Ezio..." Desmond interrupted the Italian's thoughts. "Do you think Altair is gone for good?"

Ezio snorted. "I always knew I was never good enough for you."

Desmond sighed. "It's not that, Ezio. He saved me from Abstergo. I feel a little more connected to him than you. That's all."

"I can understand. As for an answer to your question, I do not know. Have you tried to reach him more sincerely?"

"I was a bit side-tracked by the Borgia attack."

"Try again."

Desmond did as he was asked, focusing hard on Altair and his desire to hear the Syrian speak.

"Altair?" He questioned. "Altair. Are you there?"

Still, silence answered him.

"Ezio..."

"It is a long trip to Roma." Ezio stated. "You should get some rest while you can. I will take you to a doctor when we reach a city."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." Ezio encouraged. "Rest."

Desmond leaned his head against the Italian's back and exhaled in an attempt to relax.

"Ezio..."

"Yes?"

"I'm glad you're all right."

Ezio did not answer immediately. "Yes. Rest, Desmond. You will need it."

"Okay."

The Assassin-in-Training closed his eyes and listened to the rhythmic breathing of Ezio and the click of hooves beneathe him. Slowly, surely, he fell asleep, more comfortable here than he had ever been under the watch of the 21st Century Assassins.

* * *

Desmond knew he was dreaming, but still couldn't wake himself. All around him, faceless women and men were staring at him as he moved through the crowd. Before him he could see a platform where Altair and Ezio where, both tied to a pole, which was surrounded by kindling and logs. A guard was beside them, holding a torch. Despite the urgency of the moment, Desmond could not exceed a walk. The two Master Assassins were staring at him, hope and fear on their features, but they did not speak. He reached the platform just as the torch ignited the wood at their feet. He approached them and stood before them as the fire lit their clothes. Neither screamed. They simply stared at him. He did not move to help them. The guard stepped towards him and turned him around with no struggle from Desmond. He stared before him where once had been a throng of people, but now rippled a violent sea.

He was shoved out to the waves.

The sensation of falling was what awoke Desmond and he let out a holler as he and Ezio fell from their horse onto the road below. The shock left Desmond lying there motionless for a few moments before organizing his thoughts and sitting up.

"Ezio?" He sat up and turned to the Italian. "Ezio? Are you all right?"

When he was given no response, he grabbed the man's shoulders and turned him over, only to gawk at the wound he couldn't believe he'd missed before.

"Ezio!" He yelped, shaking the man's shoulders. "Ezio! Wake up! Wake up!"

Whispering prayers his companion was not dead, Desmond checked for a pulse and then pulled Ezio's shirt apart to look at the gunshot wound in the man's chest.

"Oh, god..."

Desmond tore apart the Italian's much more delicate shirt and began to wrap the wound the best he could before looking around. He could see no signs of a close city and he had no idea where they were.

"Help!" He called into the darkness. "Is anyone out there?"

"Who are you?"

Desmond spun around, standing and guarded, to face the voice, but instantly recognized the face of Niccolo Machiabelli.

"Help me." Desmond said, lowering his guard a fraction. "Ezio...he's wounded."

"I asked who you are." Niccolo pressed, eyes full of suspicion.

"I am a friend of Ezio."

"Your Italian is poor and your dialect foreign." Niccolo observed. "How are you a friend of Ezio?"

Desmond felt a flare of anger. "Ezio is wounded bad and you want to question me? We need to get him to a doctor! Now!"

Niccolo's eyes were still narrow, but he consented to bombard Desmond with questions later. After some struggle, they got Ezio onto Niccolo's horse and Desmond did his best to mount his own.

"You have never ridden before?" Niccolo's suspicion increased.

"I will do my best to keep up."

"Try not to lose your seat." Niccolo spat out the words as he kicked his horse into a gallop.

Desmond held onto his reins as if they were a lifeline.

* * *

"Thank you." Niccolo bowed to the woman he had just entrusted Ezio to and then turned to Desmond. "Come with me."

Hesitantly, Desmond followed the man outside.

"He should go to a doctor." Desmond stated.

"He should rest." Niccolo argued. "Who are you?"

"My name is Desmond Miles."

"Desmond?" Niccolo stared at the young man in suprise. "I thought you were a phantom of the Apple and the Temple beneath the Vatican?"

"It's complicated."

"I imagine so." Niccolo seemed to have relaxed and Desmond took this as a good sign. "I also imagine this means any answers you can provide to my questions will only confuse me further."

"Probably."

"There is a doctor this way." Niccolo motioned and Desmond continued to follow him, though more warily than before with several glances back at the house where he had abandoned Ezio. "This wound in your side. How did you acquire it?"

"Monteriggioni was attacked."

"Word of such has already reached me. We all mourn the loss of Mario Auditore."

"I was shot." Desmond shrugged. "But it just grazed me."

"You are quite lucky then."

Niccolo stopped before the doctor.

"He has a wound on his side. Can you look at it?"

Desmond lifted his shirt to show the gash on his side and he was amazed to see a four inch long gash along his side, thin and thankfully not deep.

"Let me just apply a salve to this." The doctor said after inspecting the wound. "And give you some pain reliever. You should rest until the scabs have fallen off of this wound. I do not recommend any strenuous activity."

"Not a problem." Desmond replied, wincing at the cold salve being applied to his side.

"Thank you." Niccolo said as he passed some coins to the doctor.

"It is my duty to serve." The doctor replied, taking the coins and offering a vial of what he claimed would relieve the pain.

"Thanks..."

Desmond took the vial and followed Niccolo back towards the house.

"I will acquire attire for you and Ezio." Niccolo informed the Assassin-in-Training. "I assume you are an Assassin."

"In training." Desmond admitted, a bit sheepishly.

"That will have to do." Niccolo seemed to have reached some sort of decision. "When you are well, meet me at the Mausoleo di Augusto around mid-day."

"I don't know Roma." Desmond argued. "I have no idea where that is."

Niccolo smiled a little. "Trust in your instincts. I hope to see you soon."

He held the door open for Desmond and the young Assassin entered it, glancing back at Niccolo in the process.

"I can trust you." Desmond wasn't sure if he was asking or stating the words.

"You can trust me." Niccolo reassured him before closing the door.

Desmond sighed, glancing at the woman tending to Ezio's wounds and the unconcious Ezio himself.

"Ugh..." He muttered to himself. "I get creepy bird-face doctor and Ezio gets pretty Italian woman. Go figure."

"You can share with your friend, yes?" The woman asked as she stood from her work.

"Share?" Desmond raised an eyebrow.

"The bed."

"Oh, yeah..." Desmond seemed uncertain for a moment, but realized the Italian had already shared his body, as perverted as that sounded admitting. Sharing a bed shouldn't be a problem. "Of course."

"I am done tending to him." She stated. "You should rest."

"Yeah." Desmond nodded as he walked over to the bed. "Thank you."

She smiled, bowing her head politely, before moving to the other side of the room where she began to cook.

Lying down on the bed, Desmond stared at the ceiling, thoughts bouncing around in his head. He wasn't sure how to feel or what to think. He knew what he wanted: for Ezio to be all right and Altair to help him get through this. Another part of him wanted to go back to his time and world, but mostly he was all right being in Roma, Italia during the Renaissance. He would never have guessed he'd be in this situation and happy about it a couple months ago.

He decided Fate was a funny thing.

* * *

Desmond walked out across the road towards the tiered circular structure which was the Mausoleo di Augusto, his eyes flicking around at the passersby and possible hiding spots for enemies. Around his body, the white robes of Italian make swayed with each step and he was impressed how light they felt despite how much he had put on.

"You carry yourself almost exactly like Ezio, Desmond."

Desmond turned around and stared at Niccolo Machiavelli as the man approached.

"Thank you."

"But you could use some training." Niccolo commented. "Come. I will teach you to move with grace, nobility, and secrecy."

"Fantastic."

The Assassin began to follow Niccolo away from the Mausoleo and into the crowded streets of Roma.

"You will need a sword as well." Niccolo told him. "If you are to defend yourself."

"I need a lot of things." Desmond grumbled.

Niccolo agreed. "You are not as well-supplied as Ezio. You will need armor, weapons, and, most importantly, a hidden blade. This last piece, however, I cannot assure you will receive. Ezio's friend, Leonardo, has a better understanding of its design than the members of the Brotherhood, but he has gone missing and I cannot locate him."

Desmond nodded. "All right. I'll just have to go without or find Leonardo."

"Best of luck." Niccolo did not sound hopeful and Desmond decided to drop the topic.

"I have no money." Desmond stated.

"This is not a problem." Niccolo straightened. "I will provide you enough to purchase a sword and a chest guard. From there, I have several...assignments I will have you complete in order to acclimate yourself to this society and the crowd within whom you will hide. The attire you wear has helped drastically, but you still appear foreign. It is the duty of an Assassin to blend in no matter where they are."

"Okay."

Niccolo stopped in front of a blacksmith and ordered the supplies, paid for them, and then helped Desmond get them adjusted to his person.

"You are the exact same height and build as Ezio." Niccolo seemed astounded by this. "Quite amazing."

"Yeah."

Desmond recalled Altair's idea of them being reincarnations of each other. He could definitely picture it as they were quite similar, but there were clear enough differences for Desmond to be sure people could tell them apart. He worried again for Altair and wondered what had happened to the Syrian.

"Now." Niccolo patted Desmond's shoulder. "To business."

* * *

Ezio's eyes opened and he sat up as memories came crashing down to his head. He was met by a woman, whom explained he was to meet with a man at the Mausoleo di Augusto.

"What about..." Ezio hesitated. "What about my brother?"

"Desmond left yesterday morning and hasn't returned since." She told him as she held out a small bag of coins. "He left you some money, though."

Worried, Ezio asked her to point him towards a doctor as he got dressed. Once he had visited the doctor, Ezio headed off towards the Mausoleo di Augusto, his concern rising with each step he took.

What had happened to Desmond? Where had he gone? Was he hurt? Had he returned home?

His thoughts did not ease his mind.

* * *

Desmond ran along the rooftops of Roma with guards in pursuit, wishing there was a reset button like in the Animus. Paths opened up for him, but he took too long to decide. He jumped too late and bounded over the platform he'd been aiming for. The ground rushed up towards him and he knew he would break his bones if he landed.

The splash of water and cold wet surrounding him caused his eyes to fly open, not having realized before he had closed them.

He swam to the surface, gasping for air, and instantly saw a hand reaching down towards him. His eyes lifted and he stared, in shock, at Altair.

"How..." Desmond took the hand and struggled to get out of the water. "How did I get here?"

"It's a little complicated." Altair informed the young Assassin. "When you went to Ezio's time, I did not follow, instead coming home, but in my dreams I saw what you were doing and, at times, could assist in my own way."

"And you just decided to drag me here?" Desmond asked, baffled.

"In my dream last night, I saw you about to cause yourself harm." Altair stated. "So I decided it would be best if you came here. When I saw in my dream you splash into the water at the base of Masyaf, I woke and hurried here to see if it was true. Honestly, I am surprised."

"You're surprised?" Desmond gaped at his ancestor. "Wait...I can't be here! No offense, but Ezio was wounded! I have to go back."

"I do not know how to take you back to Rome." Altair stated.

Desmond put a hand to his forehead. "Ugh..."

"I also have important business to do here." Altair said. "I am now the Mentor of Masyaf, though just barely."

"Just barely?" Desmond questioned, following the Syrian from the water's edge and up towards the fortress. From the looks of it, they would be climbing to the top.

"There was trouble in acquiring the position since it was I who killed Al Mualim."

"Ah..." Desmond frowned. "Why did you kill him?"

"He had been corrupted by the Apple." Altair's voice held morose to it. "And left me no choice. Furthermore, he was a Templar."

Desmond scowled. "Traitors everywhere, huh?"

"Traitors everywhere." Altair agreed.

"Altair?"

"Yes?"

"I really have to figure out a way to get back to Ezio." He watched the Assassin tense slightly. "I hate to suggest this, but do you think the Apple..."

"I do not think this Apple should be touched by you." Altair's eyes narrowed. "It is bad enough I must handle it. It should be touched by as few people as is possible."

"So you have no plans on destroying it?" Desmond asked.

Altair hesitated. "Ezio...he acquired that armor...the one that I created which...was very powerful. It is through the Apple I created it. I intend to do so still as it helped Ezio."

"Okay." Desmond nodded slowly. "So will you destroy it after creating the armor?"

Altair was silent for a few minutes as he began to climb the cliff side, Desmond slowly ascending after him.

"I do not know what I will do with it." Altair admitted. "I do not know how to destroy it and I am not sure if it will be useful or not to our cause."

"The Templars want it really badly and you know what it can do."

"Yes..."

Desmond could hear the uncertainty in Altair's voice.

"You're not thinking about using it on the Templars, are you?"

"No." Altair hastily replied. "Never, though it is a tempting idea. Using it on them, however, would contradict our own philosophy."

"Not that the Creed isn't a bunch of contradictions to begin with." Desmond muttered, heaving himself onto a ledge where he sat with the Master Assassin for a few minute break.

As Desmond stared at the shimmering water below, an idea came to him.

"Hey, Altair, why would you have me land in water? I thought you couldn't swim."

Altair's brow rose in confusion. "I can swim."

Desmond gave him a skeptical look. "You can? In the Animus, you couldn't."

Altair scoffed indignantly. "I _can_ swim. I just don't like to."

"Hmm..." Desmond contemplated this. "Must have been a glitch in the Animus."

"Must have been."

"So you have no idea how we are going to get me into the Fifteenth Century?"

"None whatsoever."

"Great." Desmond ran a hand through his hair as he sighed in aggravation. "What am I going to do?"

"You could try to get yourself in a similarly bad situation and hope you cross over thanks to Ezio." Altair suggested lamely.

"That sounds like a really bad idea."

"I can think of nothing else."

"Ugh..." Desmond rotated his arm to ease the ache, which had been developing in his sword arm. "All this training is beating me up."

"It is good for you."

"Says you." Desmond rolled his eyes. "Hey...are you sure you couldn't try using the Apple?"

"I could." Altair shrugged. "But I believe it is best not to meddle with such a dangerous weapon."

"Yeah..." Desmond hated to agree.

"Desmond."

His head jerked at the sound of Ezio's voice and he stood.

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear?" Altair's brow rose as he slowly stood. "I did not hear anything."

"I think I just heard Ezio's voice calling my name."

"I believe this Animus messed with your head too much."

"Jerk..." Desmond muttered, peering around warily. "I swore..."

"Desmond."

"Did you hear that?"

Altair's eyes were now searching around himself, clearly having heard the Italian's voice as well this time.

"Where is it coming from?" Desmond asked, touching the cliff as if hoping a door would open up.

"I do not know."

"Desmond."

The ex-bartender peered over the cliff as if expecting to see the Italian making his way up.

"Be careful of the edge." Altair warned.

His warning came too late. The unstable edge began to crumble beneath Desmond's feet and he fell backwards in an attempt to keep from sliding. Altair grabbed onto his arms, but this proved futile as the entire ledge began to dissolve underneath them.

"Altair!" Desmond hollered just as they began to fall together.

* * *

The floor felt cold, the air chilly. All around him, Desmond could feel the creeping sensation he was somewhere he shouldn't be.

"Dezmund!"

Hands grabbed his shoulders and yanked him from the icy hold of water and into the liberating air, which he gasped for, choking and sputtering.

"Altair..." Desmond rested his head against the chest of his ancestor, savoring the heat Altair provided. "What...happened..."

"We're in Monteriggioni." Altair informed him. "In the Sanctuary. It appears to have flooded."

Desmond's eyes lifted and he scanned his familiar surroundings. "God...this place is a mess."

"You don't say." Altair muttered, stroking his descendant's back in an attempt to return some of Desmond's body heat. "This may sound...inconsiderate, but we should ransack the Villa for supplies."

"Agreed." Desmond nodded, "But we can't go through the library."

"Why?"

"If we open the Sanctuary, we'll make it accessible to...those who are not Assassins."

"Good point." Altair stood, helping Desmond to his feet. "We'll go out the back way, though I assure you Ezio made it difficult."

"I know..." Desmond recalled leaving the Villa through the underground passage vividly.

"Let's go."

Altair led the way out of the Sanctuary with a shivering Desmond following him. He soon found leaving the Sanctuary was much easier than getting to it, though had to rescue Desmond from a couple of falls.

"You are a terrible Assassin."

"Excuse me for not be accustomed to this kind of work." Desmond muttered irritably.

They reached the exit and sneaked into the walled fortress city, past Borgia guards and to the Villa.

"They've brutalized this place." Altair cursed, incensed by the Borgia army's lack of consideration for the arts and hard labor of the Monteriggioni citizens.

Desmond stared at the ruins, recalling Ezio's hard work to earn the money which restored the city and the Villa to its former glory.

"Bastardos." He muttered, watching Altair twitch a smile at his descendant's Italian accent.

"The armor was up in Ezio's bedroom." Desmond pointed towards Maria's room, through which one could gain access to Ezio's bedchambers. "As will his hidden blade be."

"Search the Villa for armor for yourself." Altair encouraged. "And new clothes. Yours are ruined."

Desmond glanced down at his attire, which were ripped, blood-stained, muddy, and damp. "Yeah..."

"And find a weapon."

"There will only be the second hidden blade." Desmond informed the Assassin. "Which you should use."

Altair was frowning. "I have on my person a second hidden blade I brought with me when I was sure you would be joining me, but it...requires a sacrifice."

Desmond turned away from the Assassin. "Go find the armor, Altair."

The Syrian did not respond as he moved towards Maria's old bedroom while Desmond struggled to open the room to the armory.

He didn't know if he was prepared for such dedication to the Creed. Though he was serious about saving all of humanity, stopping the Templars, and assisting Ezio and Altair, he wasn't as sure about cutting off his finger in a display of such loyalty. He had never prepared for such a show of allegiance to the Assassin Brotherhood.

The door finally budged open enough for him to squeeze through and he began to piece together a set of armor before finding himself a better sword and knife than the ones he currently wielded. He heard Altair entering the room.

"How in the name of all that is good is a person supposed to get this damnable robes on?" Altair snapped as he approached his descendant.

Desmond laughed lightly. "I'll help you if you need it."

"Please." Altair snarled, setting the armor and robes aside. "I found some for you as well."

"Thank you."

Desmond began to remove his clothes and adorned the Italian attire quickly, Altair watching him with his golden eyes as if for instruction.

"Here." Desmond helped the Syrian organize the robes appropriately. "This goes on first and then this and this...and then...I think this..."

"You do not even know, do you?" Altair asked with a raised brow.

"I figured it out eventually." Desmond rolled his eyes. "These are just a little different from the ones I wore in Roma."

"Why do you call it Roma?" Altair questioned as he began to follow the ex-bartender's instructions. "Isn't it Rome?"

"I guess, between your time and this one, Rome became feminine to Italians."

They looked at each other and laughed weakly.

"And that's it." Desmond finished fastening the belt.

"Wonderful." Altair grumbled. "Now I am as striking and gaudy as our flamboyant friend."

Desmond rolled his eyes before sheathing his new weapons. "Do you have suitable blades?"

"I acquired my sword, which Ezio used." Altair motioned to the weapon he now had at his side. "And this knife he also wielded."

"Good." Desmond pulled on his boots and greaves before motioning towards the door. "Shall we?"

"You should take a hidden blade." Altair held out the extra one he had brought with him. "You never know when you will need it, brother."

Desmond took the blade, but hesitated to put it on. "Altair...I'm not sure I can...the sacrifice, I mean."

Altair stepped forward to put his hands on the young man's shoulders. "You are strong, Desmond. It is a long journey to Roma and Leonardo is missing. We cannot guarantee we will be able to acquire a blade for you. If you feel you cannot do it, I understand, but I cannot guarantee your safety."

The ex-bartender stared down at the weapon in his hand and sighed as he held out his left hand to the Assassin.

"Do it."

* * *

Desmond gripped the reins with his right hand as he and Altair left Monteriggioni far behind. Altair was giving him riding lessons as the Syrian had not felt comfortable sharing a horse with the other.

"You must learn to ride." Altair insisted. "And it is not so difficult when it is two horses. Yours will follow mine."

"I just don't like that it has a mind of its own." Desmond griped. "Give me a motorcycle. It doesn't think for itself."

Altair sighed in exasperation. "This is the renaissance. There are no motorcycles. I assure you."

Desmond groaned. "This is going to be a long trip, isn't it?"

"Only if you continue to be a useless moron." Altair grumbled in response. "Now, encourage your horse into a trot."

"Men were not meant to do this." Desmond cussed as he did as he was told. "Ow...ow...ow..."

"Quit complaining." Altair snapped. "Now, to a canter. It is faster, but more comfortable."

"How do you stop?" Desmond shouted as he took his horse into a canter.

"I will tell you when I am satisfied with your canter!"

"STRONZO!"

Altair smiled to himself, finding entertainment in Desmond's annoyance because he felt, for once, Desmond was safe and, despite all complaints stating otherwise, quite happy to be here with him. This made the Syrian glad as well.

* * *

Altair's eyes washed over the scene before him, amazement in his eyes. He had never been to Rome outside of Desmond's and Ezio's memories and he couldn't believe he had never made the journey before.

"Imagine it in its original glory." Desmond suggested.

"I almost can." Altair whispered, eyes scanning the massive architecture and sprawling city. "It would have been beautiful."

Desmond, who had never once cared for history or architecture, turned his gaze to the cityscape below and found, for the first time, it to beautiful. Perhaps, having endured what he had, having experienced what he had, he had grown to appreciate the work of these men and women.

He smiled.

"Race you to the gates." Desmond leaned over his horse's neck.

Altair snorted. "You will not win."

"You don't know that." Desmond scoffed and then gawked as the Syrian kicked his horse into a gallop. "That's cheating, Altair!"

"Last one to the gate must do as the other says." Altair called back over his shoulder.

"Oh, hell." Desmond kicked his horse forward in chase. "Move faster, horse!"

They galloped forward, Desmond's horse stretching to catch up to the one Altair rode. Desmond knew within moments he wasn't going to beat the other Assassin and soon was slowing his horse to a trot.

"What will you have me do?" Desmond sighed as he approached his ancestor.

"I will decide when the opportunity presents itself." Altair grinned. "Be warned, for you will be humiliated, brother."

"Like you winning wasn't already humiliating." Desmond grumbled, pulling his horse to a stop as the guards opened the gate.

"Where was Ezio?" Altair asked as they entered the city.

"He was at a woman's house, but I don't know what day it is." Desmond sighed, wiping the back of his hand over the sweat on his brow. "I don't know if he's conscious yet or anything."

"We will head towards this place he was." Altair stated. "And see if there are any signs of him being well."

"Sounds good."

Weaving through the crowds of Roma, Desmond eyed the distant Borgia towers and the guardsmen scattered throughout the city, which was in dire need of repairs.

"This place has the taste of death..." Altair mumbled under his breath. "And despair."

"Yeah." Desmond nodded in agreement. "When I left, I was supposed to be helping to restore the city to its former glory, but I couldn't figure how."

"Destroying those towers wouldn't be a bad idea." Altair jutted his chin in the direction of a Borgia tower.

A moment later, it began to explode, fire igniting upon the top.

"Ezio." The two Assassins stated in unison.

Dismounting, the two slid through the crowd until they could see Ezio leaving the guarded fortress of the Borgia tower and heading straight towards Niccolo Machiavelli.

"I dare you to give him a kiss on each cheek when we greet him." Altair suddenly said. "Like a true Italiano."

Desmond blanched, startled at the completely un-Altair behavior. "What?"

"This is your price."

"How is _this_ my price?"

"For losing."

"I know _that_." Desmond glanced at the strutting Ezio. "I cannot do that. No way. I don't care. Publicly humiliate me and call me a homo in front of the entire Order, but I will not...no...he'll take it wrong...somehow."

Altair snickered as they began to walk towards Ezio. "I told you it would be humiliating. How can you call yourself a man if you cannot even follow through with the repercussions of your failures?"

"Don't pull that on me." Desmond snapped. "That's unfair."

"I could have asked you to kiss his lips." Altair stated. "As Malik asked of me. I, at least, am a man who keeps his word."

Desmond's mouth dropped. "Malik is _evil_, Altair. _Evil_. You need to find better friends."

"Fifone." Altair snickered.

"Finocchio." Desmond shot back. "Yeah. I speak Italiano too, cazzo!"

"Stupido."

"Sei stupido!"

"What are you? Two?"

"You're two!"

"Desmond!"

The two arguing men turned to see Ezio rushing towards them.

"Desmond!" He put his hands on both sides of Desmond's face and leaned in to plant a kiss on either cheek, startling the ex-bartender. "I was worried! Where were you? I thought perhaps you had died! Niccolo says he hasn't seen you since early this morning!"

"Uh...w-well...the...um..." Desmond couldn't get his sentences in order and the fact Altair was laughing wasn't helping. "I got...it was all Altair's fault!"

Ezio turned, finally noticing the Syrian for the first time. "When did you get here?"

Altair stared at him blandly. "We arrived in Monteriggioni a day ago." Altair informed him. "It took us a few hours to acquire armor, weapons, and attire, but we were successful, as you can see."

"Ehi!" Ezio gaped at the attire Altair was wearing. "That's my armor!"

"Technically, it's mine." Altair stated, eyes daring Ezio to do something about it.

"Wait. Wait." Niccolo suddenly interrupted. "This is _the_ Altair? As in Altair Ibn-La'Ahad?"

"The same." Ezio said quickly before focusing upon Altair. "I would actually like that armor back now."

"I'm using it." Altair said sternly. "Get your own."

"You could use mine." Desmond tossed in.

"No." Ezio held up his hand to Desmond. "You need it more than I."

He glared at Altair.

"I would like my armor back now."

"It's mine."

"You're dead."

"I seem to be breathing." Altair didn't stand down.

Ezio reached for his weapon. "Let me rectify that."

"Ezio." Desmond groaned.

"Desmond gets kisses and I have to cross blades with you." Altair rolled his eyes. "I see how it is."

"Well, we all know Desmond prefers you." Ezio threw up a hand in exasperation. "He crossed through time and space to get to you when he was perfectly fine here with me."

"I actually saved his life."

"He did." Desmond admitted.

"I have saved your life as well!" Ezio sounded hurt and Desmond felt a sting of guilt.

"And we're here with you." Desmond stated. "I mean, we're not in Altair's time, are we? We're here in your time."

"Because my duties are more important." Ezio scoffed, annoyed again. "Not because we prefer me over him. Well, _I_ prefer me, but nobody cares about what I think."

Desmond growled. "All right. Are you done throwing a tantrum?"

Ezio scowled at him and Desmond regretted the words instantly.

"We must be on our way." Machiavelli stated. "Ezio, the stables are free now for purchase. I will buy them for you."

"Proceed." Ezio motioned carelessly, still irritated.

"I have money." Desmond said, putting a hand on Ezio's shoulder. "We should buy you proper armor."

The Italian motioned again, this time for Desmond to lead them to a blacksmith. After searching for what felt like forever, they found a shop tucked in a corner and proceeded to purchase the best armor the blacksmith could supply, as well as a better sword and knife.

"You made a lot of money while I was sleeping." Ezio commented.

"I was practicing my pickpocketing skills." Desmond snickered. "Believe me, there was a lot of running involved."

Ezio laughed as the three Assassins began their journey back to the stables. "I wish I had been there."

"Niccolo was training me." Desmond felt more guilt at not letting the Italian assist him. "But he mostly just watched me try my hand at it. It was embarrassing. Anyways, it was while running from such a bad instance that I made a poor jump and Altair saved me by bringing me to his time and letting me land in the water."

"You are a horrible free-runner." Altair pointed out.

"I'm used to the Animus where it just drains my synch with you guys and, if I fail too much, I can restart."

"There is no restart." Ezio said, stopping Desmond to give him a pointed look. "You must keep in mind how real this is. This is important. You do not get to try again if you fail too much."

Desmond nodded, feeling the weight of Ezio's words. "Yeah...I...know."

The Italian held up a bag of coins and handed it to Desmond. "Here's some of what I owe you, dear friend."

Desmond smiled. "You're good."

"Let's keep walking." Ezio grinned back and Desmond agreed as behind them someone began to complain about the loss of his coin purse.

"How do you do it?" Desmond asked.

"Well, people usually keep it on their left side and it hangs differently than pouches." Ezio responded. "It's also easier with a hidden blade as you can cut the ties. Cut and catch. You do have a hidden blade right?"

"Yup." Desmond tried to hide his arm from the Italian as Ezio eyed his left arm.

"Let me see it."

"It's a hidden blade." Desmond shrugged. "Just like any other hidden blade. Nothing to see."

Ezio grabbed Desmond's arm and forced it up for him to inspect. Instant shock and then anger flared up at the sight of Desmond's severed finger.

"You cut off his finger!" He roared, rounding on Altair.

"A sacrifice was required for the use of one of my hidden blades and he said I should take the second blade." Altair stated.

"I do not care!" Ezio argued. "You should have forced him to take the second blade!"

"It's fine!" Desmond grabbed at the infuriated Italian.

"Sei un bastardo brutale brutta di una puttana, animale!"

Altair's hidden blade flicked out in an instant and he held it to Ezio's throat. "_What_ did you call my mother?"

"Puttana." Ezio spat. "And your father was a bastardo inutile senza un cazzo."

Desmond yanked Ezio out of the way as Altair's blade aimed to kill. The two fell to the ground and Desmond struggled to his feet in order to stand between the two Masters.

"Ezio! Altair!" He gasped for breath. "That is enough! I chose to cut off my own finger. All right? It was a _choice_! You two need to stop fighting and work together! What if the Borgia saw this? They could make moving around very difficult and, if they recognized you and reported to Cesare...god, I don't even what to think about the trouble _he_'d cause us."

"I would put my blade in his throat!" Ezio shouted, having already scrambled to his feet. "Right after I put it in Altair's!"

"No!" Desmond held up a hand to Ezio. "We need him!"

"He just tried to fucking kill me!" Ezio thundered.

"So be the better man and kill him when we don't need him." Desmond hissed. "But right now we need to work together as a team or the Borgia and Rodrigo are going to win."

Ezio scowled, opening his mouth for another insult, but Desmond cut across him.

"Or Mario's death will never be avenged."

Ezio's mouth shut with a snap.

It took a few moments for the two Masters to lower their weapons, but they finally did and Desmond relaxed a little.

"All right, to the stables." Desmond breathed.

"To the stables." The Masters grumbled together.

Desmond's brows pinched in worry, wondering how on earth he was supposed to keep the two from each other's throats.

* * *

**Here is chapters eleven through twenty of the original Animus Vox for you. :)**


	3. Licere

Chapter Three: _Licere  
_

"I don't see why Ezio cannot ride with Niccolo." Altair argued. "Why must I?"

"We only have two horses." Ezio said, getting on one. "And Desmond is riding with me."

"I do not feel comfortable with this..." Altair glanced around for the mount he'd left behind, but the horse and long since disappeared. "I would prefer to ride with Desmond."

"I will not hurt you." Niccolo promised, holding down a hand to the Assassin.

Reluctantly, Altair took it and slid in behind the other.

Desmond hesitantly got on his horse behind Ezio and the four took off, while Niccolo bored Ezio with various bits of information. The Italian listened intently while Desmond surveyed his surroundings curiously. After some time they arrived where Niccolo was supposed to meet a man responsible for intercepting a letter. When they found the man was late, they searched for him at the Coliseum, where they discovered him cornered by guards. Four Assassins on horseback proved too much for the guards and Desmond inwardly admitted he'd never seen guards taken over within such a short period of time. The man did not have the letter, however, and Ezio, followed by Altair, took off after the courier.

"Are they...competing?" Niccolo asked, glancing at Desmond. "Well, let us be on our way. We will meet with them when they are done."

"Done?" Desmond glanced in the direction the two had taken off. "I don't know. I really think I should accompany them..."

"Come." Niccolo handed Desmond the reins. "I'm sure they can resolve their problems on their own."

Desmond furrowed his brows, not as sure as Niccolo, but he swung up onto his mount anyways.

"Lead on."

* * *

Desmond was worried. It had been hours since he had last seen the Master Assassins and the horrible feeling it was only going to be one or neither of them returning to him was now nagging at the back of his head. He didn't trust either men not to get at each other's throats. He was also sure now that the only reason neither had gotten in a physical fight while in the twenty-first century was because they didn't want to bruise Desmond. He couldn't imagine them working together using his body. The image seemed...impossible.

"Here they come now."

Desmond lifted his head in shock and followed Niccolo's pointed finger to the two muddy and...laughing Assassins.

"You really think fast." Ezio was commenting as he approached, clapping Altair on the back. "I thought we were goners there for a second. Did you see the way that pillar was falling? It's amazing we survived!"

"I survived because of skill." Altair stated. "You because of luck."

"Stronzo." Ezio shook his head, chuckling. "We survived. What else matters? But who were those men."

"Followers of Romulus." Niccolo explained. "They've been terrorizing the countryside and I'm certain the Borgia are behind it."

"Probably." Ezio peered up at Desmond. "Did you miss me?"

"You had me worried." Desmond snapped. "I thought you two had killed each other! What were you doing?"

"In a Lair of Romulus." Ezio shrugged. "Fighting bad guys and stealing treasure."

"So you're pirates now?" Desmond asked with a chuckle, receiving confused looks in turn. "Never mind."

"Let's be off." Niccolo suggested as he dismounted. "There is a quick way to travel to and from our base of operations."

"Quicker than a horse?" Ezio asked. "Are we flying?"

Altair shuddered. "That contraption of Leonardo's..."

"How do you..." Niccolo started and then shook his head. "Never mind. I do not want to know."

Desmond laughed. "Let's get going."

* * *

"The sewers..." Altair stopped at the entrance. "Tell me you're kidding."

"I'm not." Niccolo said, motioning them inside. "This is the quickest way around the city. Of course, several of the entrances are in dire need of repair, but this one as well as the one in our base of operations are in functioning order. You will find staying out of the eyes of the guards will make travel much quicker."

Altair wrinkled his nose, but followed when he saw neither Ezio nor Desmond hesitate.

"You call me flamboyant and guady," Ezio commented. "But you sure act like a pretentious woman sometimes."

"What?" Altair snapped, but Desmond quickly stepped between the two.

"This way."

Niccolo began to lead them along the narrow pathway through the dark tunnels with only his torch as light.

"Jeez." Desmond muttered, grabbing Ezio's cape for guidance.

"Eagle Vision, Desmond." Ezio whispered back at him and Desmond replied by using his Eagle Vision. Though it was easier to see, Desmond found the light from Niccolo's torch was too bright.

"Sorry." Desmond stopped using the special vision. "I'm going to rely on you."

"As you wish." Ezio replied and Desmond wrinkled his nose at the pride in the Italian's tone.

It took them surprisingly less time than the three had anticipated and soon were meeting with Fabio Orsini to discuss their options. While Niccolo and Ezio talked, Altair and Desmond explored the hideout.

"Exceptional." Altair commented in awe. "Underground...within an important city. Brilliant in more ways than one."

"Glad to hear it." Desmond sighed.

"Why do you say that?" Altair asked with a raised brow.

"Well, I was worried there wasn't going to be anything you liked of the Italian Assassins."

"The only thing I don't like about the Italian Assassins is Ezio Auditore himself."

"Oh, come on." Desmond scowled at the Master Assassin. "You respect him a little, don't you?"

"Only that he assisted you in your escape from Lucy."

"Didn't he assist _you_?"

"Technically, we were assisting you."

"Whatever." Desmond shrugged. "Right now, you two are almost on equal footing with me..."

"Wha..."

"I said almost!" Desmond interrupted the Syrian. "Jeez, you two get defensive easily. I thought you learned all that patience and calmness stuff from the Hunt for the Nine."

Altair growled. "I may have learned to keep my head better, but my personality has not changed."

"You don't have to tell me. I can see for myself."

The glare he received caused him to apologize instantly.

"I don't mean to be mean." Desmond informed the Syrian. "It's just...you two fighting all of the time worries me."

Altair put a hand on his descendant's shoulder. "We will never see eye to eye, Dezmund. He and I have completely different viewpoints of the world around us and of the Creed. We grew up differently and our societies demand different approaches, much like yours does from ours. It is an Assassin's ability to adapt which is the source of our success. Regardless, the difference between him and I is simply too great."

"But you and Ezio get along with me."

"You're a novice." Altair shrugged. "You have an excuse for being useless and having juvenile skills. He does not."

"Who are you saying has juvenile skills?" Ezio snapped, approaching the two. "I am your senior."

"Only by a few years."

"A few years?" Ezio furrowed his brow. "You were twenty-six when we last spoke."

"I am thirty-nine now."

Desmond looked at him in awe. "You're aging well."

"Remove your hood!" Ezio reached out to grab the hood, but Altair stepped back from him. "Ehi!'

"Don't be rude." Altair snapped, flicking off the hood with a quick motion of his hands.

Though it was difficult to see, the Master Assassin was indeed older. Wrinkles tugged at the corner of his eyes and around his lips and gray was infiltrating his hair.

"You were gone for that long?" Desmond gaped at the Assassin.

"I was where I was supposed to be." Altair stated sternly. "I had just returned from Constantinople. It was the year 1204 when you arrived, Desmond. Much had happened. I married, for one, and have a son."

"You have a son?" Desmond gawked at the Assassin. "_You're married?_"

"That _is_ shocking." Ezio muttered, receiving a glare for the insult. "Well, it _is_."

"I see you remain single." Altair snapped, motioning to the Italian. "Are you not in your forties now? Soon you will be too old for women and without an heir, no doubt. Of course, perhaps Desmond is merely a descendant of one of your bastards. I would not be surprised."

"Are you calling Desmond the descendant of a bastard?" Ezio snarled, raising his chin threateningly. "You should watch your tongue, Altair. I am still your elder."

"And I am still your superior, no matter the age gap between us."

"And I would really appreciate it if you two would stop getting at each other's throats!" Desmond stood between them in a place he knew was unsafe to be. "Jeez, you two bicker like an old married couple."

This silenced any further arguments as the two Master Assassins blanched at the idea and began to berate Desmond for even making such a horrible suggestion.

"Niccolo!" Desmond called into the other room.

"I do not want to be involved!" Came the response, causing Desmond to slump.

"I just want to know where the sleeping quarters are."

Niccolo entered the room. "If you'll follow me."

Putting haughty words aside, the three Assassins followed Niccolo up some stairs and through a secret door leading into the building beneath which the underground base was situated.

"There is a room for men and a room for women." Niccolo informed them. "We have female guests, so I'm afraid you'll have to share a bedroom. There are mats to use. Until such a time as I can provide you with proper sleeping quarters, this will have to do."

"A bed sounds great." Desmond sighed, rolling out a mat. "I was so close to just sleeping on the stone floor."

Altair and Ezio remained silent as they also unrolled their mats, placing them on either side of Desmond in an attempt to avoid one another.

"I don't feel safe all of a sudden." Desmond stated aloud, watching as the two Masters glared fiercely into their pillows. "I'm kidding. Relax. Get some sleep. I know I am."

"Perhaps we should teach the Novice to always be on his guard." Altair suggested to Ezio. "We could attack him in his sleep."

Desmond tensed. "Not funny, Altair! Go to sleep."

The Masters smiled at one another before pulling the thin blankets around themselves.

As Desmond lay there, staring at the ceiling, he found Altair's words had struck home.

He had a hard time going to sleep that night.

* * *

Morning found the three Assassins in front of a mirror, trying to adjust their clothes, armor, and weapons and be presentable to the general public. Ezio was the first to speak, but he chose to ignore his companions completely.

"Damn, I'm good-looking." He greeted himself in the mirror after pulling his hair into a ponytail.

Altair rolled his eyes while Desmond gave the Italian a worried look.

"They call that Narcissism." Desmond informed the eldest Assassin. "And I think its a mental condition in dire need of a psychiatrist."

Altair snorted amusement, but Ezio managed to keep his cool.

"You're both just jealous because I am clearly the best looking out of all of us."

Desmond and Altair laughed.

"We look _just like you_." Desmond argued.

"Well, you look younger than us both." Altair told his descendant. "And I have a lighter color of hair than either of you, but you are correct. We could all be brothers."

"I'm just the handsome sexy brother." Ezio stated as if what he said was fact.

"And what am I?" Altair asked.

"The annoying serious brother always worried about breaking the rules." Ezio grumbled. "Though, this is probably only so because you nearly died from breaking all three tenets of the Creed..._in one mission_."

"Stronzo." Altair scowled. "I think you're just the annoying little brother who can't seem to get his dick out from between all the ladies' legs."

Desmond's mouth dropped. "Altair!"

"It is true!" Altair waved at the Italian. "I'm surprised he hasn't _caught_ something."

Ezio grimaced at the Syrian. "Well, good morning to you too, _brother_."

"You as well, _little brother_."

To avoid a serious fight this early in the morning, Desmond asked, "So what am I?"

The two Masters stared at one another, but neither offered up an explanation immediately.

"Fantastic." Desmond attached his cape. "I'll meet you two down in the hideout."

He stalked off, slightly irritated and slightly hurt. He couldn't stop his mind from wandering and coming up with silly assumptions. Were they simply unable to decide their view of him or was it because they had yet to honestly accept him as a true Assassin, thus their brother? Sure, they called him their brother all of the time, but Desmond remained skeptical of their view of him and even of his own capabilities.

"Dezmund." Altair stopped the younger man with a hand on his shoulder. "Do not fret so much."

"I'm not...fretting."

"I can see by the pinch of your brows how much you are worried." Altair stated, poking a finger between Desmond's eyebrows at the crease there. "Do not fret. Considering the amount of training you have had and the ordeals you have endured, I would say you have progressed much faster and with much more skill than any novice I have encountered before. There are certainly areas you need to work on, mostly in the free-running from what I can tell, but I have yet to see you kill."

Desmond felt a sting in his gut. He had never killed anyone, having convinced himself his acts in the Animus were not real and the motions he carried out were no different than playing a video game. In all honesty, he had no idea how he would feel about actually killing someone.

"I'm not sure." Desmond whispered, nervous again. "I'm not sure I can kill, Altair."

The Syrian nodded. "Do not worry. You will find out. In desperation, a man will always discover his worth."

Desmond nodded weakly and continued on his way to the hideout, unaware Ezio had also heard the conversation.

* * *

"We must rid Roma of the Borgian rule." Ezio stated. "The three of us will work faster if we split up across the city. Desmond, you will head north. Altair: south. I will take the east. Best of luck."

"Whoa. Whoa. Whoa." Desmond held up his hands. "I can't take down an entire tower!"

"You must kill the Borgia Captain ruling the area and then burn down the tower." Ezio said without hesitation in his voice. "A torch to it should be enough. When we can we will remodel it as a base of operations for ourselves while also renovating the surroundings shops. This will bring us in more money. If we do this simultaneously, we will confuse the guards and we will also finish our business faster."

"I'm not so sure." Desmond frowned, glancing down at his mauled hand.

Ezio put a hand on the young man's shoulder. "Consider it your initiation into the Order, brother. You will be a true Assassin, if still in training, after you have completed this mission."

Desmond grimaced deeper. "Ezio. I'm not sure I can..."

"I am confident in your skills." Ezio patted the ex-bartender's back. "Have confidence in yourself and I am positive you will succeed."

"I..."

"I also believe you can, Dezmund." Altair offered his own support. "If you need pointers or suggestions, now is the time to ask them."

Desmond frowned, hating both Masters for pushing this onto him.

"No...I think I know what I'm doing."

"Safety and peace then, Dezmund."

"May luck favor your blade, brother." Ezio clapped Desmond one final time before turning towards the exit. "Come. Niccolo purchased for us our own horses."

"Fantastic." Desmond muttered, following the Masters out to the stables across the way.

"This is Sovrano." Niccolo pointed Altair to a white stallion, black eyes wide and ears pinned back. "He's all yours."

Altair sighed. "Wonderful."

"Falco is Ezio's." Niccolo patted the black horse beside him. "He's a bit jumpy, but I'm sure nothing you can't handle."

"Perfecto." Ezio reached for a nearby saddle.

"And this," Niccolo motioned Desmond to follow him. "Is Polvoroso. He's yours, Desmond."

Desmond nodded as he approached the brown horse. "Thanks."

"He's an older horse." Niccolo informed him. "He doesn't spook and he's good with crowds, however, you will have to really kick him to go above a walk."

"Great." Desmond glanced at Sovrano and Falco, who were snapping at each other.

"His gear is there." Niccolo pointed before turning to leave.

As soon as the man was gone, Desmond turned to his ancestors.

"Um...so how do you saddle a horse?"

Ezio laughed as Altair shook his head in disbelief.

"What are they teaching you in the twenty-first century?"

"How to drive a car." Desmond deadpanned.

"Good point." Ezio reached for Desmond's saddle. "All right, so the first thing you do..."

* * *

Desmond crouched, staring down at the Borgia Captain and his accompanying guards. Somehow, he had managed to sneak onto the roof top without being detected, but he knew this secrecy would not last long. Two archers patrolled the roof he was currently hiding on and he had a feeling they would see him soon. His mind was working through a million possible solutions to his problem. He could leap down and assassinate him when he came back around on his patrol. He could drop down onto the ledge below and hide on the porch until a better opportunity presented itself. He could eliminate the patrolling roof guards and then have free reign of the rooftops for a more convenient kill. Idea after idea rushed across his mind.

Maybe he was thinking about this too much. Altair and Ezio were always talking about just going with their feelings. They insisted he should just know what to do naturally. It should simply come to him, but Desmond wasn't as sure. What they were describing sounded like the Bleeding Effect, not insinct, but then...maybe they weren't such different things.

He heard approaching footsteps and knew he was running out of time. The Borgia Captain was coming back around on his patrol. Desmond's body tensed. His foot shifted closer to the edge of the building.

"Hey..." The archer's voice was alarmed, but came too late.

* * *

Altair's eyes lifted to the sky and the distant Borgia Tower caught in flames and smoke. He oriented himself and smiled when he realized the tower was in the north.

"Well done, Dezmund."

* * *

"Vittoria per la Assassini e Desmond!" Ezio raised his fist high at the flaming northern tower. "Il restauro di Roma è iniziata!"

* * *

Desmond sighed as he crawled out of the haybale and brushed himself off, amazed at his own abilities and the fact he had survived such a tall leap of faith. He started out onto the road, blending in the crowd like he had done so many times in the Animus. He wasn't paying attention to anything though. His mind kept wandering back to what he had done around the Borgia Tower. Despite having experienced it and been the one with the blade in hand, he couldn't honestly recall exactly what had happened after he had leaped from the ledge. A part of him seemed to understand every single Borgia soldier within thirty feet of the tower was dead and, clearly, he'd lit the tower up into flame. Other than this, he couldn't tell how he had done any of it because he couldn't recall. He had literally gone into some strange 'zone' and blotted out the lives of twenty or so men and did not remember a bit of it.

"You don't seem well, brother."

Desmond's eyes lifted slowly to meet the golden ones of Altair. For a few seconds, he simply stared at the Master Assassin wordlessly before glancing around.

He was in the hideout near the desk. How he had gotten here and how long he had been here were two questions he felt he'd never get an answer to.

"I untacked your horse." Altair informed him, stepping closer to eye Desmond with greater scrutiny. "You must remember not to leave the tack on. It isn't good for them and you could ruin the tack as well."

Desmond managed a nod, not sure his voice was ready for use yet.

"I met Ezio outside." Altair stated, now circling Desmond. "He went on to destroy another tower he had spotted. I believe he also damaged his armor, but was reluctant to admit it, hence his quick leave."

Desmond nodded again, absently like before.

"You should eat something, brother." Altair motioned towards the trap door, which would lead to the house above. "And then rest."

Nodding once more, Desmond began to walk towards the ladder, but collided with Altair in the process.

"Sorry." He croaked, blush coming to his cheeks at the sound of his voice. He cleared his throat quickly as his hands pressed against Altair's chest. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."

"Dezmund." Altair was holding Desmond's sleeves. "The first time is always the hardest. With each time, you will progress better. You will become accustomed to it."

"I..." Desmond's eyes flicked up momentarily to his ancestor's, but found the gold too knowing and too intuitive. His gaze dropped to his feet instead, discomfort and anxiety spreading across his body. "I'm not sure, Altair. I'm not...I don't think I'm...it's so..."

"You will become a better Assassin over time."

"I don't like the idea of being a killer though."

Desmond realized how insulting he had just been after the words had already left his mouth. Altair's hands left his clothes and Desmond's own dropped limply to his side.

"Eat." Altair's voice had chilled. "Sleep."

Desmond couldn't think of anything to say, so, head hung and body feeling heavier than it ever had, he made his way to the ladder uninhibitied. The food seemed to hold no flavor. The water tasted bitter. The floor was harder than he last remembered it. The room was too quiet. He lay there on his mat, staring at the ceiling while below Altair and Ezio argued harshly in Italian.

"He cannot be one of us!" Altair was saying. "He does not see the way we see!"

"He is one of us already!" Ezio was arguing back. "He has proven as much with the Borgia Towers!"

"He called us killers!" Altair snapped. "As if we are no different and no better than a common murderer!"

Ezio was silent only for a moment. "He is confused and conflicted. I was as well when I first drew blood, but my veins were filled with the heat of revenge. He does not hold the anger I hold towards the Borgia. He does not hate the Templars as strongly as either of us. In all honesty, this is not his fight."

"This is as much his fight as it is our own." Altair snarled. "Conflicted or confused or whatever he claims to be, he must pick a side! I will not tolerate being called a killer! I am an Assassin! I hold a greater purpose than soldiers or guards or murderers!"

"I agree with you!" Ezio shouted in order to be heard. "And I'm sure Desmond truly does as well! No doubt he said it without thinking! He probably regrets it greatly and not because he has brought you anger, but because he has hurt and insulted you..._you_ who is his friend, his savior, and his brother!"

Altair scoffed. "No brother of mine would insult me in such a way."

"You were responsible for the deaths of many of your brothers." Ezio reminded the Syrian. "We all make mistakes, Altair. It is up to us to ensure such mistakes do not happen again and we can only do so by forgiving and moving on!"

"And you believe you have every right to give _me_ advice?"

"Such arrogance is the reason why you failed once before, brother."

There was silence in which Desmond held his breath, waiting for the clash of swords or the snuffing out of life. Instead a door slammed and he heard the loud exasperated sigh of Ezio before the Italian began to curse.

Desmond spent that night alone.

* * *

Desmond awoke feeling groggy and unwell. It wasn't he was sick, but how much he dreaded meeting Ezio and, more importantly, Altair. He had a feeling neither were happy with him and he knew Altair was livid. Now he had rested and the taste of death wasn't as near as it had been, he was thinking a little more clearly. It didn't matter if he wanted to be seen as a killer or not: he had already killed over twenty men yesterday. Posing as Altair and Ezio, he _could_claim he'd killed even more in the past. Whether or not he wanted to turn from this path, he could not escape the past. He had blood on his hands and he wast going to have to live with it.

This didn't solve his current dilemma of course. Altair was mad...or hurt as Ezio had said last night. Desmond wondered if he could even apologize without getting his head sliced from its place on his shoulders.

Groaning and wanting to hide beneath the blankets all day for the overwhelming sense of guilt weighing down on him, Desmond put away his bedding and sneaked out of the room. Peering down through the trapdoor, he noticed no one was visible in the hideout and slid down the ladder hastily. Cautiously, he investigated the rest of the hideout, but found he was utterly alone.

"Huh..." He mumbled, glancing around.

Where were Altair and Ezio?

Nervously, he left the hideout and discovered only his horse, Polvoroso, remained.

Heaving a sigh, he saddled up his horse and went to see if he couldn't find the two Masters.

He realized later he should have stayed in the hideout.

After being forced (by fate, he insisted) to attack a Borgia Tower, killing its Captain and torching it, he found himself on some crazy adventure fighting the Followers of Romulus in one of their lairs located in the Catacombe di Roma near the Piramide Cestia. He had only headed this direction thanks to some old man he'd questioned about seeing Ezio. He defeated those whom attacked him, scaled countless walls at his own peril, and stole far more from the Followers than was probably necessary.

Then he escaped only to spend a good two hours running from the guards because he had accidentally pushed one on his way back to where he had left his horse. It took him another two hours to find Polvoroso, whom had wandered off at his own liesure to graze and ignore the chaos of the city.

Not long later, he'd run into a group of thieves led by La Volpe, whom, not knowing who Desmond was, began to order him around under the assumption the Assassin before him was Ezio. Since he did not wish to cause unnecessary strife, Desmond found himself on several missions for the Thieves Guild, which had apparently been reinstated by Ezio, even if they did still lack a base.

Once he was sure he was free of the business with the Thieves, Desmond made a break for it, hoping to get back to the hideout without any further trouble.

He failed.

Another guard called for his head and he was once more rushing around the countryside in hopes of escaping his pursuers. By the time he was safely away from the guards, it was dark and he was lost. Polvoroso was shivering beside him, no doubt overworked, starving, and parched. Desmond felt much the same.

He found a worn out stable where an old mare was munching idly on some hay. Removing Polvoroso's tack, he let his mount join the mare before tucking himself away in the corner of the building to wait for morning.

The following day was as bad as the first. He abandoned Polvoroso at the edge of the city because he felt he'd have better luck at finding the hideout if he stayed on the rooftops. This proved to be a bad idea because apparently Roma had far more archers on its roofs than any of the cities the Animus had let him adventure through.

Several hidden gardens and haystacks later found Desmond pushing through the crowds, trying to hide his face because it seemed now every guard and his brother was looking for him. He had already torn down several posters with his face on it and even bribed a herald, but found the Animus often made easy what was terribly difficult in real life. The guards were still looking for him.

Long foot races soon ensued with crossbow bolts whizzing by his head and the shouts of guards raising an uproar throughout the city.

Once he shook them and hid, this time behind a market stall, Desmond nearly burst into tears. He was tired of running. He was tired of hiding. He was hungry. He was thirsty. He was exhausted. He just wanted to get to the hideout and get some sleep. At this point, he was sure he would kiss either Altair or Ezio if he found them.

Checking his surroundings for guards, he began again to journey, asking any he felt would answer if they knew where Isola Tiberina was located. The journey was slow, frequently halted by patroling guards or forced usage of less common streets. His legs were sore and he was sure he would pass out from fatigue at any moment.

The hideout finally appeared in the distance and, in his excitement, started out across the bridge without checking first for guards.

"Hey!" His stomach seemed to fall out at the Borgia soldier's harsh tone. "You! You're that man! The whole city has been in an uproar. Surrender now or we will kill you."

For a brief moment, he contemplated surrendering simply because it was easier. In the next second, he thought about rushing across the bridge and into the hideout, but knew he could not compromise the Brotherhood. There was no more thinking after that: only running. He ran as fast and as hard as he could back the way he had come, eyes flicking to his surroundings, to landmarks and significant buildings. He hid as soon as he was sure they could no longer see him. Then, when they had rushed past, he made a mad dash back towards the hideout, across the bridge, onto Tiber Island. He found the door, glanced back to make sure no one had tailed him, and rushed inside.

As soon as the door had closed, he collapsed on the stairs, out of breath and without enough energy to even crawl further.

Rushing footsteps reached his ears and he instinctively tensed, but could not find the strength to fight or run. His eyes met Ezio's and then Altair's as both Masters came into view at the bottom of the staircase.

"DESMOND!" Ezio shouted, taking the steps two at a time.

He knelt beside the ex-bartender and immediately began to inspect for injuries.

"Your leg!" He gasped, noticing a small gash, which had done more damage to Desmond's clothes than his skin. "What happened? Where were you? Why did you leave? What were you thinking? We have been all over Roma looking for your scusate culetto! We thought you had gone back to your time! We thought you could be dead! We thought you could be captured! We were worried, you fottuto bastardo! We were so fucking worried!"

Desmond rested into the Italian's chest, shaking and wanting to cry, but trying so hard not to.

"I just had two really bad days." Desmond finally managed to sob, feeling ashamed at crying in front of the two Masters. "I'm sorry for worrying you. I didn't mean to. It was just me being such a useless idiot..."

He felt Altair kneel on his other side and rest a hand on his knee and shoulder.

"Are you hurt badly?" Altair asked in the calm Desmond had become accustomed to near the end of living through Altair's life in the Animus at Abstergo. "Do you need to see a doctor?"

"Of course he does!" Ezio snapped back, voice shaky. "He's hurt! He needs a doctor and he probably needs food and water and rest!"

Desmond turned to wrap his arms around the Syrian, startling the man.

"I'm so sorry for what I said, Altair." He choked out. "I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it."

Altair wrapped his arms around the younger man in an awkward embrace. "All is forgiven, brother. Let us tend to you and let you rest."

Desmond nodded, but didn't recall anything after doing so.

* * *

"Dezmund?" Altair asked, looking down at the young man. "Dezmund?"

"I think he fell asleep." Ezio stated.

Altair adjusted his hands and lifted the ex-bartender up into his arms.

"There is a couch in the armory." Ezio informed the Syrian. "We can let him sleep there for now."

Carrying Desmond, Altair made his way towards the armory whilst Ezio followed.

"I wonder what happened." Altair said as he laid Desmond down on the couch.

"I'm sure it's a grand tale." Ezio took a seat on the floor in front of the couch, using it to support his back. "I wonder how he got separated from his horse. I think I nearly died of a horror the moment I saw Polvoroso without Desmond."

Altair frowned, taking his own seat beside the Italian with a space of two feet between them. "I thought he had died."

"I thought this was a possibility." Ezio mumbled. "But I didn't want it to be true."

"I thought it was my fault."

Ezio remained silent upon hearing this confession, waiting for Altair to elaborate.

"I thought I had driven him to it." Altair leaned his head back so it rested against Desmond's leg. "I thought he had died...of his own accord."

Ezio glanced momentarily at the other Master Assassin.

"I don't think Desmond will ever be that weak." Ezio stated, eyes now perusing the walls of the armory. "I think he is very strong and we should have more faith in him."

"He is still young, untrained, and in dire need of our assistance."

"Thus we should never deny it to him."

Altair nodded weakly. "Yes. I will never make it seem like I would not help him...not again."

"We've each learned our lessons." Ezio reassured the other Assassin. "We know now we must keep our eyes on this maledetto idiota until we are confident enough in his skills. We must also not lose faith in his abilities when we do lose sight of him. I know I have learned to be more conscientious of my brothers. Desmond, no doubt, has learned his own share of lessons."

"And I have learned to be more caring and trusting of my brothers as well." Altair agreed. "We are brothers, after all. We should be kinder towards one another."

A hush filled the room, interrupted by the echoes of dripping water against stone, the creaking of old wood, and the crackling of fire.

"You're still a buco del culo con un bastone infilato su esso." Ezio finally said.

"And you're still a variopinto uccello piumato con più starnazzare di artigli e becco." Altair responded, smiling smoothly at the other.

Ezio grinned.

"You're a great brother."

"You as well, Ezio...in your own way."

"In your own way too, Altair."

Neither saw Desmond smile in his sleep.

* * *

Desmond's eyes blinked open and he slowly sat up, finding himself on the couch in the armory of the hideout. From what he could tell, he was once again alone.

Sighing, Desmond stood, stretching his sore muscles before heading towards the ladder which would take him up to the living quarters and, hopefully, food.

"Where are you going?"

Desmond spun on his heel to face the desk where Altair was sitting, going over documents and maps.

"Oh..." He hesitated, not sure if the Syrian was still mad at him or not. "Um...food. I was going to go look for some food."

Altair waved a hand to the table in the corner and Desmond turned to find a tray of food waiting for him.

"Thanks." Desmond approached the table. "Where's...Ezio?"

"He had business with the courtesans." Altair replied. "At least, that is my understanding."

Desmond recalled how there hadn't been any courtesans in Altair's day and wondered how the Syrian was handling this new asset to the Assassins.

"So...um...what...do you think of the courtesans?" Desmond asked as he took his seat, so he could face Altair while he was eating.

"I think they fit Ezio's manner of disguise." Altair answered shortly, causing Desmond to smile. "As does the flamboyant attire that he chooses to wear."

"That we're wearing as well." Desmond dared to say.

Altair didn't respond immediately. "I think the courtesans are a disgusting blotch upon this society. They are dirt marks that should be removed."

"Ouch." Desmond muttered around his food. "They have feelings too, you know."

Altair chose not to continue this conversation and diverted it. "What happened?"

"Huh?"

"When you left."

"Oh..."

Desmond took a drink of what he had thought was water only to choke at the bitter taste of wine. He cleared his throat, well aware of Altair's golden gaze locked on to him.

"I went looking for you both." Desmond explained nervously. "Only I ended up killing a Borgia Captain and lighting the Tower and..."

He recounted the story to the Syrian, who's look, as time wore on, was written with more and more surprise and awe.

"And I am to believe this?" Altair finally said when Desmond was done with his tale. "That you did all you said you did? In two days?"

Desmond pulled out the Scroll of Romulus and bags of coins he had acquired, setting them down on the table. "You can also talk to La Volpe about my missions."

"I do not know who this La Volpe is." Altair admitted. "If what you say is true, not long after when you left I returned and found you gone. I spent the remainder of the next two days searching the city for you."

Desmond sighed, feeling guilty. "Well, with how much alarm I raised throughout it, I'm surprised you didn't find me."

"I'm an Assassin." Altair scoffed. "I avoid areas where guards are most active, though Ezio did investigate. You may not be able to hide well from guards, but you did well from Ezio."

Desmond frowned. "Maybe Ezio is just blind."

"I am not blind, brother." Ezio snarled, coming down the stairs. "I was just speaking with La Volpe. Apparently, I was helping him quite a bit the day before yesterday...when I was actually helping Bartelomeo."

Desmond flinched. "Sorry."

"Bastardo." Ezio slouched down on the bench across from Desmond. "You caused us far more stress than necessary, alle prime armi."

Blush rushed to Desmond's face. "I am not a fledgling."

"Alle prime armi fits him, doesn't it?" Ezio asked, turning back to Altair.

The Syrian responded with a raised brow.

"Maybe, piccolo uccellino." Ezio suggested.

"Stronzo." Desmond muttered, biting into some chicken.

He noticed Altair was giving him a disgusted look.

"What?" Desmond asked, looking at Altair as if the Syrian was being weird.

"You..." Altair shuddered. "You are eating with your left hand."

Desmond's brow shot up his face. "So?"

"Your _left_ hand." Altair repeated as if this would clarify things.

Ezio laughed as he explained. "That's for bathroom business, Desmond."

Desmond dropped the chicken onto his face. "Er...sorry...my hands are clean. I swear."

Altair stood, seeming completely sickened by what he had just witnessed.

"Don't worry, uccellino." Ezio patted Desmond's arm. "He had the same reaction to me. Two against one...I think this makes him the strambo."

Desmond smirked. "Hey, Ezio...are you ever planning on getting married?"

Ezio looked at him, shocked. "What brings this on?"

"I think I had a dream I was at your wedding to someone..." Desmond shrugged. "But...I don't really recall."

"Well," Ezio frowned. "I don't know. I want to, but...with Christina having passed away and..."

"Christina passed away?" Desmond gaped at the Italian.

Ezio hesitated, suddenly unsure. "You do not know this?"

"I had no idea." Desmond stared down at his food. "I'm sorry."

Ezio waved it off hastily, apparently uncomfortable with the subject. "She is gone, yes, and I believe Caterina Sforza was only using me for political means, but...I hope...regardless. Still...I do not know. I must find, of course, someone I love."

Altair joined them on Desmond's side of the table.

"In the end, love doesn't necessarily have to be apart of it." Altair put in. "Regardless of your emotions, it is necessary you produce an heir, not just for the sake of passing on your name, but also for the sake of ensuring Desmond comes to be."

Desmond immediately envisioned a movie he had seen. "_'Jesus, George, it was a wonder I was even born._'"

Both Altair and Ezio stared at him in confusion.

"Sorry." Desmond waved at his hand as he chuckled. "It's from...something. You wouldn't get it."

"If you say so..." Ezio trailed off, still eying Desmond in slight worry.

"Da dio..."

The three Assassins all lifted their gazes to see La Volpe, Bartolomeo, Claudia, and Niccolo all staring at them. It had been La Volpe who had spoken and he continued.

"They could be triplets." He gasped in awe.

Altair quickly pulled on his cowl, causing Desmond to realize the Assassin had not been wearing it a moment before. Ezio stood to greet his friends while Desmond politely refrained from stuffing his face any further.

"This is Altair Ibn-La'Ahad." Ezio hastily added. "Yes, like from the stories...and _this_ is Desmond."

He pulled Desmond up from his seat to introduce properly.

"The prophecy given to me in the vault was to come to this man."

"The incompetant." La Volpe stated. "I saw his handywork. I swore you were simply having a bad day, Ezio. The Thieves were laughing for two nights at his blundering."

"He does seem a bit..." Bartolomeo deliberated over his words. "Scrawny."

"I've found he's a bit lacking in knowledge." Niccolo told the three beside him.

"He couldn't even ride a horse." Claudia scoffed.

By this point, Desmond's face was red enough to be mistaken with a bloated apple. He wanted to melt into the floor and he kind of wished neither Ezio nor Altair came to his defense. They only made him feel worse.

"He is still in training." Ezio said as Altair stated simultaneously, "He is still a novice."

"Oh." Niccolo nodded as if this was acceptable. "And how old is he?"

"Seventeen." Ezio and Altair said in unison, apparently thinking along the same lines.

"He looks a bit old for seventeen." La Volpe pointed out.

"It's the scruff." Desmond mumbled, still staring at the floor as if willing it to devour him.

Ezio put an arm around Desmond, pulling him close to his side. "But couldn't we be brothers?"

"A horrifying thought." Claudia stated dryly. "Two or three of you. The city can hardly handle one. You imagine all the work three of you would be giving to my courtesans?"

Desmond snorted a laugh as Altair hastily defended himself.

"I am nothing like this buffone pervertito!"

"This is true." Ezio agreed. "Unlike you, I can please women."

In unison, the four allies rolled their eyes, Claudia sighing in annoyance.

"My wife is plenty pleased by me." Altair argued.

"Just because you have a son does not mean your wife is pleased by you." Ezio pointed out.

"And just because the women you bed are moaning doesn't mean it is in pleasure." Altair snapped.

"Altair!" Desmond couldn't decide if he wanted to gawk at the Syrian or burst out laughing.

"I can assure you women are pleased with my handling of them." Ezio didn't seem to like the situation Altair had put him in, having to prove his virility before his allies and fellow Assassins. "You need to relax some, Altair. My sister has just taken over the brothel. I am sure she will be more than willing to lend you a courtesan or two."

"I am _married_." Altair growled. "And unlike some I am a devoted man, not a child trying on his father's boots!"

Desmond knew these were fighting words and immediately inserted himself between the two.

"Okay! Okay! Okay!" He put a hand on each of their chests, hoping they wouldn't kill him in the process of burying a knife in one another's throats. "Ezio! We all know you're good with women! Which may be why Altair has such a problem with you!"

"What?" Altair blanched.

"And you have dedicated yourself to one woman." Desmond shot. "Which may be why Ezio has such a problem with you!"

"No!" Ezio shook his head in disgust.

"Wise words." Niccolo clapped his hands a couple of times. "But virility and monotomy aside, we have important business to discuss about Cesare and Rodrigo Borgia and their army. In particular, we need to kill both men and gain the Apple. Ezio. You know what needs to be done. Please, enlighten us on how we can be of assistance."

Ezio exhaled, all anger washing out of him in the same motion. "Right...to business."

Desmond lowerd his hands, glancing at Altair. The Syrian still seemed angry, but the tension had left his shoulders.

The ex-bartender sighed, wondering what his role in all of this was and if he was only making things worse.

* * *

"You're going to recruit new Assassins?" Desmond asked, surprised as he, Ezio, and Altair stood on one of the bridges leaving Tiber Island.

"Yes." Ezio faced the other two Assassins. "And you two will help me. Altair, you are a Master already, but I want to make this clear."

Altair's head rose, prepared to defend himself.

"In this Brotherhood, you hold the same title and the same authority as myself." Ezio stated. "We are both Masters, no matter our opinion of one another."

Altair nodded, silenced by the shock of not being insulted.

"Desmond." The Italian turned to the youngest amongst them. "You are a capable Assassin. Your work over the past two days was proof of this. You survived many a trial we Masters would have deliberated over."

Desmond's eyes met the ground, unaccustomed to praise.

"Still," Ezio continued. "You need to work on your form and technique. We have much to teach you, young brother."

"Ezio..." Altair grabbed the other Assassin's arm and pulled him away. "A word."

Desmond watched as the two Masters spoke in secrecy, arguing as it seemed yet again. He felt his gut tighten, nervous about what they were discussing and how it concerned him. He knew they had different views of him. He knew they shared the belief he was still a novice. He agreed. How could he argue? Assassins didn't make as many mistakes as he did.

The Masters approached him, having come to an agreement at last.

"Tonight." Ezio told him. "When we are done with our recruiting for the day, we will meet in the hideout. Niccolo will meet us there as well since there will be much to...discuss."

Desmond's brow rose.

"In the meantime, you hold a higher level than the recruits we'll be attempting to acquire. Keep this in mind."

"Okay..." Desmond hesitated.

"If you see a citizen fighting with the Borgia, defend them." Ezio instructed. "Help them. Tell them the restoration of Roma has begun. If they wish it, they can join us."

"Seems easy enough." Altair shrugged.

"Safety and peace." Ezio told them.

Desmond hesitated. "M-maybe I should just stay at the hideout."

Ezio snorted amusement. "Just don't wander far enough to get lost, uccellino."

Wrinkling his nose at the nickname, Desmond gave up arguing. "Safety and peace, brothers."

"To you as well." Altair mumbled, eyeing Desmond in a way the ex-bartender knew meant worry.

"I'm fine." Desmond reassured the Syrian before starting over the bridge.

In reality, he wasn't as sure as his words.

* * *

Desmond wasn't sure who was rescuing who. The man he was attempting to recruit had saved his back as many times as Desmond had saved his. Though Desmond was sure it was impossible, it seemed the Borgia soldiers grew stronger and more powerful with each passing day, proving to be worthy adversaries and dangerous foes. He wasn't sure he was cut out to defeat them.

This meant he was quite surprised when the man knelt before him and bowed his head.

"I owe you my life." The man told him. "I do not know what I would have done had you not helped me."

Desmond offered his hand to the man. "The restoration of Roma has begun. Will you join me in this fight?"

"I offer you my life and my service." The man told him. "Tell me what it is I can do."

Feeling more confident than he had in days, Desmond instructed the man on where to go to begin his life as an Assassin. Though momentarily surprised to discover what kind of man had saved him and what kind of life he would now lead, the man continued to show his gratitude and willingness to serve.

Once the man was gone, Desmond focused on finding someone else to recruit, invigorated by his latest accomplishment.

* * *

Walking into the hideout, Desmond raised an eyebrow at finding only La Volpe waiting for him in the study.

"Where are Altair and Ezio?" Desmond asked, glancing towards the doorway which would lead into the weapons chamber and then to the Initiation Hall.

"They await you." La Volpe waved his arm in the direction Desmond had been looking. "Proceed."

Nervously, Desmond started towards the door while La Volpe followed him. Upon descending the stairs to the large chamber, he knew something big was about to happen.

The six recruits the Assassins had managed to employ to their cause were in their new uniforms, standing in two rows on either side of the hall with their right hand over their chest. At the head of the hall, Altair, Ezio, and Niccolo all stood beside a fire pit containing bright embers and at the bottom of the steps nearest them, Claudia and Bartolomeo waited with smiles on their faces.

Desmond felt his stomach tighten. He knew what was about to happen.

He walked down the isle, La Volpe having left him to go alone. All eyes were on him, the recruits grinning and in awe. Altair and Ezio had pride in their eyes and he knew why. All wetness left his mouth. His stomach kept squirming inside of him. Anxiety prickled across his skin.

He took the steps, nearly shaking with nervousness.

_"Laa shay'a waqi'un moutlaq bale kouloun moumkine."_ Niccolo said as Desmond approached. "_The wisdom of our Creed is revealed through these words."_

Ezio pulled the tongs from the fire while Altair took Desmond's left hand, removing the glove and helping him to hold out only the stub which was his ring finger.

As Ezio approached Desmond, he began to speak, "Where other men blindly follow the truth, remember..."

Desmond nearly forgot he was supposed to speak the next piece, "Nothing is true."

"Where other men are limited by morality or law, remember..."

"Everything is permitted."

He felt the heat enclose around him, searing and blinding. He kept his eyes open, watching as his flesh bubbled and burned beneath the press of white hot iron.

"We work in the dark to serve the light." Ezio finished as he pulled the tongs apart and away. "We are Assassins."

"Nothing is true; everything is permitted." All those present spoke in unison, sending a thrill through Desmond's body.

Altair and Ezio lead Desmond back down the hall, Niccolo, Claudia, Bartolomeo, and La Volpe following them out of the Initiation Hall and up to the roof where Desmond would perform a leap of faith into the water below. The moment felt surreal as he stepped out onto the perch. Fear had taken flight long ago and would not participate in this moment. The water was black with shimmering silver scales cast by the moonlight upon its surface. The wind was cold as it danced across his face, tugging violently on his robes. For a brief second, the night felt perfect beneath the starry sky. Blue shadows were highlighted by golden lantern light upon the old buildings of Rome. The air was laden with the heavy aroma of jasmine and oleanders. From below came the laughter and idle passing of the common people, unaware of the important event taking place above their heads.

He swore he had never and would never again take such a perfect leap of faith.

* * *

"I got you something." Ezio told Desmond as he placed a heavy blanket over the soaking wet Assassin. "As a gift for joining our order. Of course, it is only of use to you if you are staying with us for some time."

Desmond felt something cold slip onto his right little finger and he held up his hand to stare at the gold ring with a circular top bearing the Assassin symbol.

"It's a seal." Ezio informed him. "It's supposed to go on your left finger, but that's occupied by the ring needed for the hidden blade. You'll have to be lopsided."

Desmond grinned. "Thank you, Ezio."

"I also got you a cape." Ezio told him as they began to walk back towards the hideout, Desmond wishing he'd been permitted to land in a haystack rather than water. "Since yours is all torn."

"Great." Desmond grabbed onto the Italian for support as they made their way through the dense crowd, which was giving Desmond peculiar glances. "But you honestly shouldn't have."

"You're my little brother." Ezio stated, smiling back at him. "And my fellow Assassin. You deserve gifts. Besides, you're also my descendant. Isn't it proper to give you presents?"

"Do you really want me to start calling you grandpa?" Desmond asked with a coy smile.

Ezio scowled, but the anger didn't reach his eyes. "You call me grandpa and I'll cut out the crotch of all your pants."

"Harsh." Desmond snickered, glancing around to make sure Altair wasn't in earshot. "But you know, if I called you grandpa, I'd have to call Altair _great_ grandpa."

Ezio barked a laugh. "I don't think he'd appreciate that."

"You think?"

Desmond followed the other Assassin into the hideout where they were met by their comrades and Altair.

"Welcome to the Brotherhood." Niccolo greeted him. "And now you're high enough rank to teach your underlings."

Desmond swore his heart stopped for a moment. Him? _Teach_? Niccolo had to be joking!

"Desmond," Ezio turned to the stunned young man. "Your recruits, Enrico Emilione and Luca Lombardi, will be under your command. You must teach them everything you have learned in the art of being an Assassin."

Desmond opened his mouth to protest, but Ezio had already turned to Altair.

"You will be training Augusto Fornari and Fedele Fabiani." Ezio stated.

"But I did not recruit either." Altair argued.

"Oh, but I've already informed Beatrice and Luciana I would be training them." Ezio grinned at the condescending looks he was receiving. "They seemed perfectly happy with this...arrangement."

"I'm sure they are." Desmond snorted before asking of Altair, "Why did you only recruit girls? I thought you were against women as Assassins?"

Altair's shoulders slumped a little. "I am not against it. I simply find it...surprising. As for the recruits, I thought I was merely assisting women in distress. I had no idea they would offer up their blades in service. Even after explaining to them what joining us would entail, I found they would not back down."

"Which is fine by me." Ezio laughed, patting Altair's shoulder hard. "Now, tonight, we will rest. Desmond, you should get out of those clothes."

"We will be leaving." Niccolo told them. "I have already sent the recruits to their rooms. Since there is now four occupying the room above, you three will have to make do with what is provided here or find an inn to rest for tonight. I will begin renovation of the house tomorrow, I assure you."

The four allies gave their farewells before leaving and Ezio heaved a sigh as he slumped down in the chair behind the desk. "What a day...six new recruits...Desmond is now a true Assassin and brother to the Creed...Altair thought highly of women..."

"I have never thought lowly of them." Altair snapped as he helped Desmond out of his armor. "Are there any extra clothes lying around?"

Ezio frowned, rising from his seat to begin searching the hideout.

Shivering, Desmond fumbled with the many latches and buckles of the armor while Altair attempted to assist him. He was shocked when the Master Assassin batted away his hands.

"You are not helping." Altair stated, nimbly removing the chest piece. "Keep your hands to yourself for now."

Desmond consented, not sure how to argue against the Syrian.

"I found some pants and a shirt." Ezio said, returning from the armory. "You'll have to make do, uccellino."

"Can we drop the nicknames now that I'm an actual Assassin?" Desmond asked between his chattering teeth.

Altair and Ezio looked at one another before bursting out in laughter.

"No." Ezio told the sullen Desmond. "You will always be our piccolo fratellino."

"Bastardi." Desmond sulked as he began to remove his clothes, not comfortable with Altair helping him with this stage of undressing. It appeared Altair felt the same as he backed away.

"Awwww..." Ezio snickered. "It's so cute."

Red rushed up to Desmond's face as he snatched the dry clothes from the Italian. "Let's push _you_ in cold water and see how you look afterwards, cazzo!"

"Even then, I am still appeso come uno stallone." Ezio laughed at the disgusted look on Desmond's face. "Relax, fratellino. I'm just picking on you."

"You're mean." Desmond complained.

"What are brothers for but to pick on one another?" Ezio slung an arm around the ex-bartender's shoulders. "But I am still bigger in that department. I'm sorry, but it's clear you got that from Altair's side of the family."

Altair's face was stoic as he stared at the Italian, who was apparently waiting for a response.

"I am not playing this game with you, Ezio." Altair finally said in the blandest tone Desmond swore he'd ever heard.

Ezio replied just as flatly. "It's not a game, Altair, but thanks for proving my point."

"What point?" Altair asked, his brow rising. "The point you are so unsure of your manhood you must take every opportunity that arises to uplift its glory?"

Desmond couldn't keep in the laughter.

Ezio's arm slipped from the ex-bartender's shoulders. "You know, I think I'm going to need proof of this son of yours because I'm pretty sure that nothing hangs between your thighs."

"Okay, guys, stop." Desmond covered his mouth to hide the grin on his face. "We should be getting some slee..."

He was cut across by Altair.

"You seem to constantly need to be reminded Desmond is not just your descendant."

"Well, maybe you're the _mother_ of your son." Ezio shot back. "Because it's sounding more and more like this Maria Thorpe has more balls than you!"

"GUYS!" Desmond stepped between the two Masters, once again fearful of a fight breaking out between them. "Can't a day go by without you two fighting?"

"He is insulting my virility!" Both Masters accused, pointing at the other.

Desmond's brows rose. "Yeah, but maybe I'm the one who should be hurt most. Neither of you even try to compare yourselves to me."

"Well, there'd have to be something to compare." Ezio chuckled at the irritated look he received. "Sorry. Sorry."

"God, I feel like your mother!" Desmond huffed, crossing his arms. "Can't you two just put it to rest for today? Ezio, I'm sure there are courtesans looking for you. Altair, why don't you brush up on your history? _I_ am going to bed."

"Cazzo." Ezio took up an annoyed stance and then an idea seemed to hit him. "Desmond...I think you should come with me to visit these courtesans."

"My armor and clothes are wet."

"Less to have to take off." Ezio turned to grab a pair of boots from beside the desk. "Here. These should do."

"Whoa." Desmond held up his hands. "Why am I going with you?"

"There may be a time when you have to woo a woman." Ezio's smile made Desmond even more nervous. "It is a good skill for you to learn. I would teach it to Altair, but it is difficult to 'teach an old dog new tricks' as the Americans say."

"I know how to woo women." Altair threw in. "And I'm sure Desmond knows how to as well."

"Yeah!" Desmond nodded. "I worked at a bar. I know all about..."

"That was in your time." Ezio interrupted. "More class and suave is needed in this day and age. This goes for you too, Altair."

Altair scoffed indignantly. "You? Show class and suave? You have to be the least classy, suave, and chivalrous man I know! I was raised in the Crusades, the high time of chivalry."

"For knights, maybe." Ezio rolled his eyes. "But, if I am correct, you are of Syrian descent and grew up in Masyaf where men ruled supreme and women were nothing but tools for procreation."

"This is not true." Altair glared at the Italian. "I love my wife. Love, Ezio, which I'm sure is a concept you're still struggling to grasp."

Desmond knew another fight was about to break out and so risked the sanctity of his mind and body for the sake of peace.

"Okay, I'll learn." Desmond cut across the insult Ezio was about to speak. "Just...let's not be out _all_ night."

"Fantastico." Ezio started for the door as Desmond pulled on the boots.

"I will accompany you." Altair sighed, his body displaying his irritation at his latest predicament. "If only to ensure your safety. The world of women is a...dangerous place to travel."

Desmond laughed, trying to imagine Altair flirting. It was an impossible image.

"Great." Ezio groaned, but did not halt the other Master. "Just try not to spoil everything, Altair."

"Why would I spoil anything?"

Desmond sighed as he followed the bickering Masters out of the hideout and he hoped against all hope tonight didn't end badly.

* * *

The pungent smell of thick perfume burned Desmond's nostrils. Every breath drew in the taste of flowers and body odor. His head was spinning with the overwhelming aromas blasting his nostrils. All around him, girls approached in dizzying twirls and flirtatious giggles. He had to close his eyes to keep them from watering.

The brothel the girls would be inhabiting was under renovations, so for the time being Claudia had purchased an old house, which the girls were crammed into, leaving no vacant corners. The mass of bodies provided heat and more smell than Desmond thought he'd ever have to endure. He stuck close to Ezio, anxious and a little bit ill to his stomach.

"He needs to learn how to properly woo a woman." Ezio was telling the ladies, whom all giggled in response. "Assistance, please!"

"Ezio!" Claudia scolded as she approached him through the throng of young women. "What are you doing here? I thought you were going to rest for tomorrow!"

"I am helping Desmond." Ezio explained, reaching past her for a bottle of wine. "We are going to teach him how to woo women and how to hold his own even whilst intoxicated."

"Wait!" Desmond turned to the Italian. "I didn't agree to that other..."

"What is your name?" One of the courtesans was saying, running a hand up his arm and to his face. "Is it Desmond?"

"You're very handsome." Another courtesan batted her lashes at him. "You want us to teach you?"

"Uh..." He swore he was imitating a fish, but he hoped for his sake he wasn't.

"Woo them, Desmond." Ezio encouraged in his ears. "Recite poetry or admire their beauty. Better yet, caress them..._lovingly_."

The Italian stepped back, taking a long swig of the wine, before announcing loudly, "Mostra loro il vero significato dell'amore, fratellino!"

"I don't know..." Desmond decided not to inform the Italian of his lack of 'love' knowledge. He didn't know poems or how to 'admire' a girl's beauty. He understood Ezio's last bit of instruction, but...

A courtesan leaned against him, her shoulder rising as she fluttered her eyelashes at him. "Would you like some assistance?"

"W-what?" Desmond fumbled over a proper response as the courtesans around him slithered across his body, hands grazing over sensitive parts of him. "Whoa!"

His reaction received laughs from the girls.

"Ezio!" One of the girls called to the Italian. "Sei sicuro che non è una vergine?"

Ezio spewed wine and began to laugh hysterically while Desmond, once again blushing, peered around for Altair, whom seemed to have disappeared amongst the crowd.

"Are you a virgin, Desmond?" Ezio asked, clapping the ex-bartender on the back.

"No!" Desmond replied defensively.

"Are you sure?"

"I think I'd be the one who knew."

"Are you lying?" Ezio rephrased.

"No."

Ezio scrutinized him, a smile growing across his lips as he took another sip. "I think you are."

"I am not!"

"Povero fratellino." Ezio chuckled into the bottle. "Still a virgin. You should have said so earlier. I would have found you an incredibly skilled woman to teach you the ropes."

"I am not a virgin!" Desmond argued, snagging the wine bottle. "Give me that."

He drank from it heavily, causing Ezio to laugh.

"This is crazy." Desmond groaned, his headache worsening with each second, but he couldn't tell if it was from the stench or the alcohol. "I shouldn't have come here."

"You just need help, brother." Ezio told him. "Come. Let me teach you."

Desmond followed the Italian into the the midst of the bustling bodies, courtesans trying to catch his attention with graceful glides against him or whispered suggestions in his ears, which had turned a brilliant pink. He had never felt so aware of his body and the way the floor came to meet his feet or the touch of hands on his back and sides. Even the feel of the loose fabric of his shirt and the tight cling of his pants seemed to send shivers across his skin. He drank more from the bottle.

"You must make eye contact." Ezio was telling him, his voice sounding a bit distant and surreal in the clamor of the crowded house. "Smile and approach with confidence. Don't bother introducing yourself. Don't ask her for her name. Just start talking. Make it light. Converse gently and slip in a compliment or two. Don't try to be witty: you'll fail. Just talk and let the conversation mold on its own. Then ask her name and introduce yourself once you are sure she is interested."

"Non...lo...so..." Desmond was having to think about his Italian now, the strong alcohol working on him quicker than he ever recalled alcohol doing before. He deliberated over his words, concentrating on making sense.

"You can do it." Ezio encouraged with a slap to the young man's back, which nearly sent him toppling over. "Get to it before you collapse!"

Desmond straightened, passing the bottle off to Ezio, and followed the Italian's pointed finger to a beautiful young courtesan in a corner. He approached, liquid courage giving confidence to his steps. Conversation started faster than he expected and the results were even quicker. She had him cornered against a wall and the alcohol had done its wonders in getting him hot and ready. Then, something clicked inside his head. He changed his mind. He kindly rejected her advances and began to rush through the crowd, one eye open for an escape while the other sought after Ezio or Altair.

He spotted Ezio in a corner on a couch with four courtesans around him, feeding him grapes and sips from wine and massaging his feet and shoulders. The Italian was in his element, laughing and grinning and having the time of his life. Desmond stood there, staring at him, partially in awe, partially in jealousy. He realized a second later the Master had stopped laughing and was staring back at him with a look of concern. The ex-bartender turned on his heel and left the brothel without the earlier struggle of finding the exit.

The icy air hit him like a bucket of cold water. He gasped, shocked by it, but hurried through it to the nearest alleyway. He felt sick, but it wasn't the same kind of sick one got after too much alcohol consumption. He didn't know what was wrong with him. Bracing against the wall, Desmond stared at the ground, willing his stomach to calm itself. A hand pressed to his back and he jerked away, turning to see whom stood there.

Altair was giving him a worried look.

"Where where you?" Desmond shouted abruptly, not sure where the anger had come from. "You didn't go in there with us! Where were you?"

"I was there." Altair stated, eyes betraying his shock at Desmond's outburst. "I watched from the rafters. You seemed to be doing fine. I don't know what happened, but perhaps you should tell me. It seems to be bothering you."

Desmond grumbled a slur of words, which didn't even make sense to him.

"How is he?" Ezio's voice entered the alleyway and Desmond felt another surge of sickness in his gut. "Was it too much alcohol?"

"It could have been the smell." Altair sounded disgusted. "I nearly lost the contents of my stomach as well when we first entered that place."

Ezio didn't reply as he approached Desmond. "Are you all right, brother? Do you feel unwell?"

"Yes." Desmond replied hastily. "I think I'm going back."

"I will accompany you." Altair said.

"No." Desmond shook his head. "I want to be alone."

Silence was the response he received and, after several moments of it, he dared a glance at the two Masters. Both were staring at him in concern and he swore he saw hurt on Ezio's features.

"I'm just not good at this sort of thing." Desmond finally admitted. "I worked at a bar, sure, but girls don't usually flirt with bartenders. I was just there to get them their drinks, so they could have the courage to flirt with the guys there. And...I've never been with anyone before. Worse, Lucy was probably the only girl I've ever gotten close to. I...well, it was hard finding out she was a traitor. It's hard...wanting to go after girls after being betrayed like that."

He knew he was speaking English, of which neither Assassin was particularly good at understanding and speaking, but he couldn't think straight in Italian. His situation felt confusing enough without including a language he was unaccustomed to.

Ezio placed a comforting hand on Desmond's back. "Brother, I...can understand, but betrayal is no reason to want to be forever alone. You need simply to learn to trust again like I need to learn to love again. You understand this, right?"

His English was choppy and influenced heavily by his Italian accent, but Ezio's words still reached Desmond.

"I don't think I can." Desmond stated, hesitant, but the alcohol made the courage come quicker. "Before Lucy, I didn't even _like_ girls."

Altair's brows shot up high enough to lift his hood. Ezio stared at Desmond in confusion, clearly not getting what Desmond was saying.

"Wait...I don't get it." Ezio finally said.

Altair sighed heavily, taking up the role of counselor for this situation. "Then perhaps this has proven what you truly desire, Desmond. If you cannot tolerate them, perhaps women are not for you."

Ezio turned to Altair with even greater perplexity written on his features. "_What_?"

"We should be leaving." Altair stated. "It is late and it is a long journey back to the hideout. Worse, we foolishly came here on foot. We will need to walk and I have a feeling one of us will be carrying Desmond at some point."

"I can walk." Desmond insisted, taking a few steps away from the wall only to latch onto Altair. "Ugh...maybe not."

"Tonight has been enough an adventure." Altair quelled Ezio's beginning argument. "We can continue it another night...with less alcohol preferably."

Ezio shrugged, giving up, and assisted the other Master in helping Desmond walk.

As they went along, Desmond grew heavier and heavier until Altair finally slung the young man over his shoulders.

"What did Desmond mean?" Ezio asked after ensuring the youngest of them was asleep.

"You could not guess?" Altair asked, a brow rising. "If he does not like women, what then would he like?"

Ezio's mouth dropped open. "No!"

"You are too easily surprised."

"He..." Ezio crossed his arms, feeling a bit violated. "But...I've...he's...I was...almost undressed in front of him!"

"And I have been undressed before him." Altair snapped. "I doubt he sees either of us as potential lovers. We are his ancestors and his mentors and his brothers. Why would he want us?"

"We saved his life." Ezio began to tally off his fingers. "We have helped him multiple times. He respects us. We teach him. I'm fucking sexy as hell."

Altair closed his eyes, hoping to quell the headache which always followed conversations with Ezio.

"These are good reasons, but I still doubt they are reason enough to..."

"He looked at me with jealousy!" Ezio told the other. "And I had thought it was because I was surrounded by women, but no! It was because he wished he could be one of those women!"

Altair smacked the Italian over the back of his head. "Shut up! Such adoration towards men is taboo, even in this day and age! Do you want them to hang him?"

Ezio glanced around, noticing a group of guards across the courtyard they were passing through.

His voice dropped to a whisper, "This is an unusual turn of events."

"He spoke to us of it because he was drunk and the alcohol encouraged him." Altair stated. "Furthermore, even drunk, I doubt he would have shared this information with anyone else. He trusts us. We should not sully that trust."

Ezio's eyes met the ground. "I will not betray his trust. I am a friend of Desmond. I am simply shocked."

"If he wakes and does not recall," Altair stated. "Or if he wakes and chooses to pretend he does not remember, we will not bring this topic up again. We will only discuss it if he wishes to. Understood?"

Ezio nodded, finding this solution reasonable, if only because he didn't wish to discuss it. What would he say? This was not his forte at all.

"How can a man not like a woman?" Ezio grumbled, kicking a rock across the stone road.

Altair shook his head hastily. "I don't know. I don't want to talk about it. I would much rather forget about it entirely. Apparently, Desmond will be the last of our line."

Ezio frowned harshly. "But this means he...likes men and wants to..."

"I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to think about it. I don't want to deal with it." Altair shook his head again, fiercer than before. "I understand it about as much as you. We will not bring it up. If he wishes to then it is our duty as his brothers to help him through it, but I will not instigate such a conversation. Can we stop discussing it now?"

"Yes." Ezio nodded quickly. "Yes. L-let's stop talking about it."

Awkward silence tailed them all the way to the hideout.

* * *

Desmond did not want to wake up. He honestly did not even want to exist. Huddled beneath a thin blanket with his face buried into his arms, he hoped the ground would open up and swallow him before either Altair or Ezio came into the room to pester him awake. He knew he had to get up. He had two new recruits to begin training.

Guilt and embarrassment erupted in his stomach and he buried his face deeper into his arms.

He did not want to wake up.

"Desmond." A hand pressed against his shoulder and he flinched, anxiety rushing through his body. "It's getting late. You have to start your day."

He nodded to Ezio's words, but did not immediately comply as he waited for the Italian's hand to leave. It did not.

Consenting to his fate, Desmond sat up, rubbing at his face and glancing at the Master in hopes of seeing something telling him last night had not happened. He realized he should be used to disappointment by this time.

"There is breakfast." Ezio said in a slow voice, eyes finding the floor in apprehension. "Altair has already left with his recruits."

Desmond could tell the Italian was not pleased with being left alone with the problem Desmond had presented last night. His stomach twisted in response to the rising tension.

"I-I can handle my recruits on my own." Desmond told the Master. "Y-you don't have to wait around for me."

"I need to instruct you a little." Ezio stated, watching as Desmond showed some panic in his features. "Well, most importantly, focus on free-running and stealing. Teach them to blend and discover information. We can focus on fighting and stealth kills at a later date."

"Yes." Desmond stood, looking around a bit frantically for his clothes. "I...um...I will."

He jumped at the hand finding his shoulder and his eyes flicked over to Ezio's. The Italian was smiling. It was a nervous smile, but it was warm and honest, causing Desmond to relax a fraction.

"It suits you." Ezio stated. "And we support you. Through and through."

Desmond nodded, lost for words.

"Relax." Ezio laughed weakly. "Honestly, it just means one less competition for the ladies."

Desmond chuckled, still nervous, but feeling better about it. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." Ezio removed his hand and headed for the door. "Now, come eat. We must discuss our plans for your recruits and from tomorrow onward, no more sleeping in this late."

"Yes, oh great Master Ezio." Desmond rolled his eyes as he followed the Italian out to the table.

He felt a lot better.

* * *

Desmond spent most of the day teaching free-running and pick-pocketing. He found Enrico did well at free-running, but was as bad a pick-pocket as Desmond, while Luca ended up giving them pointers on pick-pocketing instead of improving his free-running skills.

"I get tired from running over those hot rooftops, maestro." Luca complained, wiping sweat from his brow. Unlike Enrico, Luca chose to wear a mask as well to cover his features. "Perhaps if we were in the shade."

Desmond pulled his hood further over his face to block out the sun. "Work harder and we can stop the free-running sooner."

Luca cursed under his breath, but was careful not to include Desmond's name.

"Can either of you ride?" Desmond asked, glancing at a stable housing horses.

"I am terrible at it." Luca admitted while Enrico muttered he had ridden before, but didn't care for it.

"We'll have riding lessons then." Desmond motioned to the stables. "Once we're out in the countryside, it will feel cooler."

Agreeing with little complaint, both recruits followed Desmond to the stables and struggled with saddling their mounts, much as Desmond had. Though Desmond was still a beginner rider himself, his confidence seemed to boost at the two men's blundering since it made him feel like a professional.

Once they were saddled and on their way, Desmond felt a little better. He had the two men lead, since they knew the city better and he could keep a better eye on them if he was riding behind them.

"How goes the training?"

Desmond turned his head to the rider coming up beside him and greeted La Volpe with a smile.

"We're taking a break from free-running and stealing." Desmond admitted. "Honestly, La Volpe, I'm not particularly any good at either and I know it will make me look like a novice, but would it be all right if I enlisted the help of your Thieves to train them?"

"The fact you ask for help in the areas you struggle with is proof you are no novice." La Volpe commended him. "This is a strength you should utilize, Desmond. My Thieves and I will be more than willing to help you and if you see any idle Thieves, enlist their aid, though I assure you it will cost you."

"I understand."

"Of course, there will not be many Thieves about." La Volpe informed him. "We are still in the process of rebuilding our base of operations. It will take time before it is finished and, in the meantime, we will not be as strong as we would be otherwise. You will have to make do with what little bit of our help we can give."

"This is fine." Desmond grinned. "Any help at all is a blessing."

La Volpe laughed. "Your Italian improves every day. I look forward to when you speak it as naturally as I. Good luck, il mio buon amico."

The Master Thief rode ahead, disappearing into the crowd, and Desmond focused his attention onto his recruits, whom were struggling to get their horses out of a haystack. He sighed, smiling as he began to instruct them.

* * *

"How was your first day of training?" Altair questioned around a goblet of wine.

"Lots of horseback riding." Desmond admitted, carefully using only his right hand to grab food. "Some free-running and minimal pick-pocketing. I'm not a good teacher."

"You were teaching them a skill you only learned barely a week ago." Altair stated. "I believe this makes you an excellent teacher."

Desmond laughed. "If you say so."

Ezio groaned as he took his seat beside Desmond. "Speaking of not being a good teacher, Altair, can you take Beatrice and hand off one of your recruits to me? We do not get along."

Altair's brow rose. "Did she not appreciate your advances?"

Scowling, Ezio grabbed a piece of chicken to stuff into his mouth. "She's a cagna. I can't believe her...she...ugh..."

"What did she do?" Desmond asked in amazement.

"She slapped me!" Ezio sounded absolutely beside himself with fury and disbelief.

Altair chuckled. "You probably deserved it, novice."

"I am not a novice, stronzo."

Ezio deliberately picked up some meat from the serving plate with his left hand, touching several pieces in the process. Altair grimaced and pushed his plate aside, appetite lost.

Desmond smiled as he watched their interactions. It was as if last night had never happened, but they all knew it had. They all knew of Desmond's admittance and of the trials which lay ahead of them because of it, but it was all right. They had survived it and were doing just find despite the knowledge floating around their minds. Though he knew it troubled his ancestors, Desmond felt better about admitting this little fact about himself, even if it did put some distance between him and his closest friends.

It was all right like this and he was happy for it.

* * *

The days were blurring together. Borgia Captains fell to the blade of the Assassins. Their towers burned. Reconstruction was happening all over the city. Desmond never got a break and neither did his recruits. They were advancing, following Desmond's instructions more skillfully, and performing their duties with greater proficiency. Even Desmond was improving. His feet were more sure. His muscles were disciplined. His actions were confident. He understood what he was doing in a fight. He ran less from the guards, instead facing them with his blade drawn. The archers posed less and less a threat with his rising capabilities. Altair and Ezio still taught him. He still had a lot to learn, but even they were finding less and less flaws to work out.

Every day he patrolled the streets and rooftops with his recruits. He'd enlisted the aid of another, a young man by the name of Raffaele Ranieri who was of incredible fighting skill to rival Desmond's older recruits. He had a cocky attitude, one Desmond intended to work out before it became a problem like Altair's had, but he had a strong will. It encouraged Desmond to work even harder on his skill with a blade, which he felt was in dire need of attention.

Every night was now filled with the clang of metal on metal as Altair, Ezio, and Desmond dueled. They soon took their battles from the hideout's main room to the open countryside where they could better utilize their surroundings. The Thieves' personal little cluster of buildings became a favorite practice field for the Assassins as they honed their skills. Desmond found it easier and easier to slip between the Masters' defenses, though he had yet to come close to a killing blow. At this point, he was unsure he would be able to stop if the opportunity presented itself, a fear he voiced to his companions.

"You will stop." Altair reassured him. "It is in your blood to spare a brother."

"But what if I don't?" Desmond stressed. "What if I accidentally hurt or kill one of you?"

"Then we were not good enough Assassins." Ezio muttered.

"Or you're getting old." Desmond tossed, receiving identical scowls.

He was getting onto an equal playing field with them. Not only as a fighter, but also as a conversationalist. His Italian had improved drastically along with his blade work and his wit was sharper. He kept up in the arguments the two Masters would get themselves into and posed a worthy adversary. They were mocking him as much as they had once mocked each other, finding him finally a candidate to be compared to. Time was flying by faster than Desmond wanted it to.

Desmond shuddered as fingers ran up his neck to tickle the edge of his hair.

"It's getting long." Altair stated. "You should cut it."

"Or you can wear it in a ponytail." Ezio suggested. "But do something or it'll get in the way."

Desmond grimaced. "It's been months, hasn't it?"

Neither Master responded immediately.

"Yes." Altair finally whispered. "But it has been a good few months."

"Here." Ezio pulled out his knife and one of the extra ribbons he carried around in case he lost his. "Which one?"

Desmond deliberated for a moment before reaching for the ribbon. "Hell, why not?"

"Because you'll look like Ezio." Altair stated as if this was reason enough.

"You mean, he'll be sexy?" Ezio shot back. "And he _won't_ look like you."

"You should shave as well." Altair snapped, ignoring Ezio. "Or you're going to look like a rabbi."

Desmond laughed at this. "Yeah. I'll shave."

He didn't want this to end.

The Thieves, the courtesans, and the mercenaries all helped Desmond train his recruits and he grew proud with each sign of improvement. He wanted time to stop. He wanted to stay like this, teaching other Assassins while improving his own skills. He didn't want the war and the Borgia and Cesare and Rodrigo and the Apple of Eden to catch up to them.

It did, of course.

A crazy rescue mission later found Caterina Sforza in their midst and Cesare and Rodrigo still alive. Tension grew between them as La Volpe expressed his own opinion of Niccolo, calling him a traitor though not directly to his face. Desmond grew anxious, his mind wandering more.

What would happen when he was no longer needed in this time? Would he return to his time or maybe something important in the time of Altair would pull him there instead?

Altair was growing distant, spending much of his free time alone. Desmond worried for the Syrian, knowing Altair missed his family, his friends, and the familiarity of Masyaf and his era. Ezio too was often lost in thought, no doubt reflecting on love lost and time wasted.

The world seemed to slow for a little bit and Desmond admittedly secretly to himself he was happy for this change in the time flow. He didn't want to leave. He didn't want to go back to the twenty-first century and all of the problems that came with it. Sure he missed indoor plumbing, air conditioning, and cars, but he enjoyed his life here.

As time wore on, he began to feel he had been born in the wrong era. The Renaissance was when he should have been born. He should have grown up alongside Ezio and they could have endured the trials of life together as friends. He felt they would have been, even if the Italian was far more outgoing and interesting than Desmond was.

He wanted time to stop.

"I have spoken with Leonardo." Ezio announced one day as he entered the hideout. "Several of his creations are currently in production by the Borgia for Cesare's army. Desmond, you will follow the lead on these chariot machine guns he has created. Altair, there is a weapon called a tank you will need to destroy. Since I have the most experience with the contraption, I will destroy the bomber, but there is a third...a naval canon. Whoever is finished first will locate and destroy this weapon. Clear?"

Desmond stood. "Clear."

He wanted time to stop. It was going by too fast. Things were set in motion and they weren't stopping. He wanted them to stop. He begged for them to stop.

Ezio put a hand on his shoulder, halting him from leaving.

"Desmond, is everything all right?"

Desmond swallowed down his personal problems and shook his head with a smile. "Yes. Everything is fine."

Ezio didn't seemed convinced, but time was of the essence and so he dropped the topic.

Desmond kind of wish he hadn't. A part of him wished they could discuss this growing anxiety. He didn't want this to end. He didn't want to go home. He didn't want to say goodbye.

His troubles followed him out of the door.

* * *

**Here you are the next ten chapters :D**


	4. Novam Vitam

Chapter Four: _Novam Vitam  
_

Desmond was gasping for breath, gripping his side where the bullet had penetrated. Red splotched his vision as pain burned through.

"_We're losing him._"

He could smell alcohol.

"_How did this happen?_"

The sky kept spinning with a sun above him, too close.

"_Keep pressure to the wound!_"

Shadows swayed in and out of focus.

"_Morphine! Give me morphine!_"

Black and red infiltrated the edge of his eyes.

"Stay..." Altair's voice flitted across his ear. "Dezmund."

"I am..." He answered back. "Don't...go..."

"Desmond."

His eyes opened and he swore he could see Ezio beside him in the dimly lit room with its flickering lights and florescent exit sign. He closed his eyes again, hoping to think clearly.

"Ezio..."

* * *

"Give him adrenaline." Shaun snapped, blood up to his elbows as he dug into the fresh wounds of Desmond. "How did this happen? We took our eyes off of him for only a minute!"

"I don't know." Rebecca responded, sticking the young man with a needle. "He was found in the hallway, screaming."

Nolan stared on silently and grimly. The Assassins on guard duty were already surveying the area for any signs of a break-in, but no one had reported back yet.

"Altair..." Desmond groaned, head rolling on the table. "S-stay..."

"He's delirious." Shaun muttered, using tweezers to pull out the bullet. He tossed it aside carelessly before checking for shrapnel. "We should be taking him to a doctor."

"We can't risk Abstergo locating us."

"At this rate, I think it's pretty obvious they've located us!" Shaun ordered for thread and needle. "No shrapnel. I'm closing him up."

Shaun set aside his work and went to the sink to rinse up, surprised his limited knowledge of surgery, which he had gained primarily from television shows, had gotten him through the tedious task of removing the bullet in Desmond's abdomen.

"Zere is no sign of a break-in." An Assassin reported to Nolan. "And zere are no suspicious persons in zee area."

"Shaun." Rebecca called the man over. "Take a look at this bullet."

The blond walked over to Rebecca's side to stare down at the bloody bullet.

"Bloody hell." Shaun's mouth fell open. "That bullet could have come from the Fifteenth Century."

"What idiot would use a gun from the Fifteenth Century?" Rebecca asked. "Those things are loud and take forever to reload."

"That's the thing." Shaun turned to her. "Did any of us hear a gunshot or just Desmond screaming?"

"We 'eard 'im screaming." Nolan stated, approaching them. "And zat is all."

"So he was shot without any of us knowing by a musket from the Fifteenth Century?" Shaun asked skeptically. "Am I the only one finding this a bit odd."

"Well, it sounds like you're suggesting time travel." Rebecca stated. "And I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that's a bit odder."

Shaun frowned, glancing back down at the bullet and then at Desmond. His mouth fell open.

"Um...am I the only one just now noticing what Desmond is wearing?"

* * *

Altair and Ezio stood in the hideout wearing identical looks of worry. It had been two weeks since they had last seen Desmond and, while the journey to Colli Albani would take time, they knew something had gone awry. Desmond's recruits sat in a corner, watching the Masters with trepidation. They sensed the anxiety both Masters was trying hard not to express.

Niccolo had already confirmed a report coming in from the Borgia of Desmond's death, though they claimed they had killed Ezio Auditore, a reasonable mistake. La Volpe informed them the soldiers had not seemed as certain as their Captain. Despite the demise of the Assassin, the mission had been successful. This brought no comfort to either.

"He could be home." Ezio whispered, swallowing hard. "I had a dream...but I couldn't wake him."

Altair nodded, eyes downcast. "I couldn't wake him either. I tried...I shook him and begged him, but he would not wake."

Ezio's fists tightened at his side. "We should...find him."

"He could be..." Altair hesitated. "He could be anywhere, Ezio."

"I'm sure we can find him." Ezio pulled the Master aside, further from the prying ears of the recruits. "We can...as you did once."

"I brought him to me." Altair replied. "I have no idea how to reach him."

"I will reach him." Ezio said in determination. "I will get to him. I will save him."

Altair put a hand on the Italian's shoulder. "I will help you, brother. I will not abandon him."

Ezio seemed to relax at this reassurance. "Good, because I do not think I can do it alone."

"I would not make you go alone."

Though they were determined, neither was certain and this uncertainty followed them to their dreams.

* * *

"Desmond." Ezio leaned over the ex-bartender. "Wake up, Desmond."

He took the young man's shoulders into his hands and gave him a shake, trying to rouse him.

"Wake, Desmond! Wake!"

"Ezio."

The Italian spun, stunned to find Altair approaching him from the shadows of the room.

"He will not wake." Ezio said, motioning to the sleeping Assassin. "I am afraid...what if he never wakes?"

Altair stepped to Desmond's other side, gazing down onto the peaceful features. "Maybe we are not meant to wake him."

Ezio frowned. "Then what?"

He knew he was dreaming. Everything about this world felt dreamy. The shadows were too dark. The walls curved in on them. The lights above flickered not like flame, but like the lights of Desmond's world. His own voice sounded far and distorted in his head.

"We should join him in his world." Altair stated. "As we intended."

Ezio realized he'd forgotten of their earlier conversation and nodded in agreement. "Right...we should...join him...but how?"

"This is where he is." Altair whispered, sounding unsure. "Perhaps, if we stay here when we wake..."

"And this will bring us to him?" Ezio asked, glancing nervously at the Syrian.

"I do not know."

"Trying will not hurt." Ezio shrugged, taking a seat.

Somewhere a door light up from the shadows, but he ignored it, choosing not to leave like he had in all his previous dreams.

"Safety and peace." Altair told him as light began to dribble down the walls. "Brother."

Ezio opened his mouth to respond, but never got the chance to.

Light devoured them.

* * *

Shaun shifted around in his sleep and then his eyes opened as if he knew someone was watching him. His heart stopped at two sets of yellow eyes piercing his. The next moment blurred by, but the end result was him crouched on his bed with a cocked pistol pointed at one set of gold.

"Bad idea." A thick Italian accent snarled and he realized he had heard two clicks instead of one.

"Are you with Abstergo?" Shaun asked, somewhat loudly, hoping someone outside of the room would hear him.

"Abstergo?" The Italian asked in momentary confusion before cussing profusely. "What an idiota."

A light flicked on and Shaun flinched, temporarily blinded. Then his gun dropped from his hand.

**_BANG!_**

Three heads ducked, one screaming, as three men scrambled for cover from the accidental discharge.

A moment later footsteps could be heard rushing up the stairs and into the room.

"'Astings!" Nolan barked, gun cocked and loaded as he peered around the room. His eyes landed on the two figures on either side of the room and he instantly took aim at one.

"Don't shoot!" Shaun shouted, getting up from behind the bed. "That was me! I accidentally shot the gun!"

"'Oo zee 'ell are zese men?" Nolan eyed the dated clothing and hooded features.

"I..." Shaun hesitated, eyes flicking between the two strange men. "I think they're Altair Ibn-La'Ahad and Ezio Auditore de Firenze."

Three pistols lowered as shocked faces glanced from one side of the room to the other at the men.

"That is the case." Ezio said, stepping forward. "We are looking for Desmond. Where is he?"

"He..." Shaun hesitated. "He was shot."

"We know this." Altair snapped in irritation. "Where is he?"

"By a bullet."

"There are not many other things he could have been shot by." Ezio growled in equal irritation as Altair.

"From the Fifteenth Century."

"And where do you think I'm from?" Ezio hissed, losing what patience he had. "We are here for him. Not for you."

"Well, I'm sorry." Shaun crossed his arms. "I'm just the reason he's alive, but, no, don't thank me."

"Fine." Altair's head rose. "We won't. Where is he?"

Shaun gawked at the Syrian. "You really don't like me, do you?"

"I don't." Altair replied without hesitation. "Where is Dezmund?"

"He's in a room down below." Shaun replied, not even finishing his sentence before both Assassins turned to leave the room.

They were halted by Nolan standing in the way.

"You are Altair and Ezio?" His tone sounded unbelieving.

"Yes." They said in unison.

"And we are supposed to just believe this?" Nolan asked, eyes narrowing.

Altair flicked out his hidden blade. "What proof would you prefer?"

Nolan's head rose. "Threatening may have worked back in the Crusades, but you'll have to try another method in this century."

Altair's lip curled up in a snarl. "Move aside or I will move your corpse."

"How about we settle this without killing each other?" Shaun suggested. "You know, 'peacefully' like how _normal_ people do?"

"It would be peaceful." Altair shot back, his fingers clinching into fists.

Ezio sighed, stepping forward. "Move aside, Mr. Fevre."

Nolan's brow rose at the Italian knowing his name.

"I recall it from when Desmond was here." Ezio stated. "And I know you are a friend. However, if you do not get out of our way, you will become our enemy and I do not want that."

The Frenchman didn't need further encouragement, stepping aside finally. Altair scowled as he pushed past the modern Assassins, heading straight down the stairs.

"Thank you." Ezio said as he followed after the Syrian.

It took them little time at all to locate Desmond's room, startling Rebecca as they barged in. Fury ensued.

"WHY IS HE IN THAT ABYSMAL MACHINE?"

Altair had his hidden blade to Rebecca's throat within seconds of realizing what he was seeing while Ezio rushed to the ex-bartender's side.

"He's not plugged into it." Rebecca squeaked after orienting herself. "He's just lying in it. We had no where else we could put him where we could keep him stationary. We don't want his sutures to break open."

"Sutures?" Ezio was inspecting Desmond's wound. "Buon signore. He's hurt bad, Altair."

The Syrian lowered the blade and joined Ezio at Desmond's side.

"What happened?" Altair gawked at the mutilated mess. "His training wouldn't have..."

"Bad luck." Ezio muttered, covering the wound. "He seems to have it in abundance."

"What do we do?" Altair asked, speaking low now the other Assassins were joining them. "How do we take him back with us?"

"What are they doing here?" Rebecca asked in wide-eyed horror. "What in hell are they doing here?"

"Honestly, Rebecca, I'd like to know that myself." Shaun sighed, running a hand through his hair. "How are you two here and why is it I get the feeling Desmond was hanging out in the Fifteenth Century?"

Both Masters ignored him as they discussed ways of getting Desmond back to Renaissance Roma.

"Well, how did you get from the Crusades to Monteriggioni?" Ezio asked, standing and turning to the Syrian.

"I do not know." Altair replied. "We heard you calling Desmond's name and then Desmond slid off the cliff. I went to catch him, but ended up falling as well. We were consumed in black. When we awoke, we were in the Sanctuary."

"Wait, what?" Rebecca and Shaun said in unison.

They were again ignored.

"This sounds as if one of us should have remained in Roma." Ezio grumbled, removing his hood.

"Bloody hell." Shaun gaped at the man. "You look just like Desmond."

"Older." Rebecca pointed out. "And more facial hair."

Ezio pulled his hood back on. "How are we supposed to return to Roma if we do not know the way? I am not comfortable in this time."

"Whoa. Whoa. Whoa." Shaun held up his hands, approaching the Masters. "You can't take Desmond back to your time. He needs to stay here until his wounds have healed and then...he just needs to stay here. He's our only hope of..."

"You will not use him." Altair stated, striding up to Shaun. Though he wasn't much taller than the man, his personality dominated him. "I will not let you."

Shaun gulped down his rising fear and straightened. "You don't realize how important this is. Because of _your_ memories, Abstergo, which is the _Templars_, have located a Piece of Eden. They intend to put it up into the sky and use it to control _everybody_. Do you understand? The whole world will be enslaved to _their_ will!"

Though it had been foolish to point the finger at Altair, the words seemed to find their mark because the Syrian hesitated in response. Ezio came to his defense instead.

"Don't you dare blame Altair for this." Ezio snapped, stepping forward. "This is the fault of Abstergo: not him."

"I'm...not..." Shaun took a moment to retort, the air in his sails deflating at being outnumbered. "Look. Desmond is the only one who can locate the Temples at this point. Well, you're here. I don't suppose you know where you put your Apple?"

Ezio frowned. "I do not have the Apple. Rodrigo Borgia does."

"I see." Shaun frowned. "So that means Desmond is still the only one able to access the memories, though I don't know how he can since you're not where you're supposed to be."

Ezio scowled. "He is not going into that vile contraption!"

"We don't have any other options here." Shaun argued. "You just don't get it! We're running out of time! There's only a few weeks left before they use the Apple!"

"We will solve this!' Ezio insisted. "Just stop torturing Desmond!"

"You are always going on about how sometimes one needs to be sacrificed for the better of the whole." Shaun snapped. "There really isn't any difference here!"

He chose his words poorly. Altair's blade slid up, brushing up against the skin of the blond's throat.

"DESMOND WILL NOT BE SACRIFICED!"

Though the words had only been a growl in his throat, they seemed to reverberate of the walls, sending chills up everyone's spines.

"Altair..."

The Syrian's head spun to stare at Desmond, now sitting with his shoulders hunched and his head hung. Both Masters found his side in an instant.

"How are you?" Ezio asked, worry in his voice.

"You should be resting." Altair stated at the same time. "Don't move to quickly."

"What are you his mother hens?" Shaun gazed at the two Assassins in bewilderment as he rubbed at the place on his throat where the blade had been tickling him just moments before.

"SHUT UP!" Altair glared at the man, pointing at him. "I DO NOT LIKE YOU."

Desmond chuckled. "Oh, god...I thought I had only dreamed you two were here."

Ezio smiled, patting the ex-bartender's back. "You have a lot of explaining to do, novice."

"I'm not a novice." Desmond grumbled. "I'm an Assassin, bastardi."

He rubbed his face, feeling the dull pain in his abdomen and aware of the many eyes focused on him. He sighed, feeling uneasy, but far better since he knew Altair and Ezio were here.

Then it finally sunk in.

"Oh, god..." He groaned. "You two are here..."

"We missed you too." Ezio grumbled, annoyed.

Desmond's head lifted. "But...how are we getting back? We still have to fix things!"

"Oh, not you too." Shaun threw up his hands, giving up.

"We'll get out of here somehow, Desmond." Ezio reassured the young man. "It's just figuring out how to do it, is all."

"If it's such a big deal," Shaun sighed heavily. "Have you thought maybe the Animus could help?"

He received three identical glares.

"It was just an idea."

Desmond grimaced. "Yeah...and what's bad is...you're probably right."

Altair and Ezio stared at him in horror.

"I'm sorry, brothers." He frowned up at them. "I am so sorry. This is all my fault."

He knew it too. No matter what they said, this was his fault. Again. He had screwed up like he always did, from running away from home to not seeing the gunman riding up behind him. He just didn't know how to not screw up.

And now he had a feeling fixing things was going to painful...for everyone involved.

* * *

"That's a toaster." Desmond told Ezio as the Italian stared at the contraption the former had just put bread into. "It...toasts...bread."

Altair snorted amusement. "Amazing description, Dezmund. Care to enlighten us further?"

"I wouldn't stand too close to it." Desmond warned as Ezio peered into where the bread was held. "I don't want it startling you."

"How would it startle me?" Ezio asked, quirking an eyebrow at Desmond, though he did step away from the toaster.

"It pops up when it's done." Desmond replied. "It's startling."

Ezio laughed. "Awww, is the piccolo bambino Desmond scared of the toaster?"

"I hope you wet yourself." Desmond grumbled, pouring himself some coffee."

"What is this?" Altair asked, pointing at what appeared to be a pack of cigarettes someone had left out.

What is this?

It was a question Desmond had been answering for the past few days.

"What is this, Desmond?"

"A sink."

"What is this, Dezmund?"

"A refrigerator."

"What does it do?"

This was the other question Desmond had been answering too frequently.

"That's something you should never take up." Desmond tossed the pack into the other room. "Ezio, don't linger around the toaster. The last thing we need is to have to replace the damn thing."

"I don't know why you think I'll be scared of it." Ezio snickered, reaching for a plate so he could scoop himself some eggs.

The toast popped up.

Desmond spent the next few minutes cleaning up the mess of eggs which had splattered all over the floor.

"You don't listen well, do you?" Altair asked, covering his amused smile with his hand. "He said it's alarming."

"I didn't know the damn toast was going to leap out at me!" Ezio glared at the toaster furiously.

"It didn't leap out at you." Desmond snapped. "Quit exaggerating!"

"It tried to attack me." Ezio argued. "It literally jumped out of the toaster at me!"

"They aren't even out of the toaster!" Desmond pulled the now burnt bread from the toaster. "You're such a big baby sometimes."

"I'm a big baby?" Ezio scoffed. "Look in the mirror, cazzo!"

Altair suddenly shushed them. "Listen...they are talking about us in the other room."

Three ears found themselves pressed to the door leading into the room where the Animus was held. It sounded as if Shaun and Nolan were discussing what to do about their latest problem.

"We 'ave orders from zee top to bring Desmond across zee border." Nolan was saying. "We cannot let 'im go off into anuzer time!"

Shaun sighed, aggravation in his voice. "And what would you have me do? I don't know if you noticed or not, but Altair and Ezio are _Masters_. They'd own you and your little gang of ninjas in no time and I can't even imagine what they'd do to me."

"What's a ninja?" Ezio whispered.

"A Japanese Assassin." Desmond answered lamely just to keep the Italian quiet.

"We will simply 'ave to isolate zem from Desmond zen." Nolan stated. "Get 'im into the Animus. Finish your business. Zen we will transport 'im across zee border."

"I don't think they're going to make it easy on us." Shaun argued. "They plan on using the Animus exclusively for returning to the Fifteenth Century. I'm not sure it'll even work. Desmond is supposed to be reliving the genetic memory of Ezio, but Ezio is here with us. He's not in the Fifteenth Century. He hasn't done what he's supposed to do yet."

"Zat shouldn't be a problem." Nolan stated. "Time 'as already passed. Whezer or not 'e 'as done it is irrelevant since it is already past."

"That's the thing though." Shaun protested. "He may not have. Time may not have passed at all. The way Desmond described it..."

"Desmond is not a scientist." Nolan's voice had chilled significantly. "You were the one who pointed out the lack of time. We don't have any other choice, but to keep pushing forward. If the Templars win...well, you know the rest."

Shaun sighed. "I just have a really bad feeling about this. Rebecca says there's a chance..."

"I know what Rebecca speculates." Nolan cut across him. "But we simply cannot waste any more time. You understand?"

"Yes...I do...but..." The nervousness in Shaun's voice heightened Desmond's own anxiety.

"Zen zere shouldn't be a problem."

Footsteps approached the kitchen and the three Assassins rushed back towards the table, pretending they hadn't heard the conversation.

"Desmond?" Nolan asked after entering the room.

"Yeah?" Desmond focused on scooping himself some potatoes.

"'Ow are you feeling? Are you up for using zee Animus?"

"I'm not really sure." Desmond replied, eyes still refusing to meet the other man's. "The Animus fucks with my head a lot and I'm still recovering."

"Well, we are out of time." Nolan stated. "You must use it or not at all."

"Not at all sounds good."

Nolan's eyes narrowed at the young man. "We will begin in an hour."

Desmond cursed, feeling sick already at the idea of entering the machine.

"We could run, Desmond." Ezio suggested. "We could go back to Monteriggioni and work out a plan from there."

"I can't." Desmond motioned to the wound in his stomach. "I'm not even supposed to be moving around. I should be dead. I'm really lucky. I'm also really sorry."

"It's not your fault." Altair argued. "Quit apologizing. It's getting annoying."

Desmond sighed, knowing they honestly didn't blame him, but he knew the blame rested solely on his shoulders.

"What do you think will happen?" Ezio asked suddenly, the worry in his voice causing Desmond to stare at him in concern. Though the Italian was trying hard to hide it, there was definite fear in his eyes. "Do you think...it will hurt?"

Frowning, Desmond took his seat at the table. "I don't know."

"Could it..." Ezio hesitated. "Could it kill..."

"No." Desmond answered immediately. "No. I...uh...I don't think it can."

He knew his words were of little comfort to either Master Assassin.

Keeping his attention on his food, Desmond internally begged that everything would turn out all right.

He had a feeling though, deep in his gut, they weren't going to be so lucky.

* * *

Desmond sat in the Animus, Rebecca at his side with her eyes glued to her computer. Shaun was in the corner, his own eyes focused upon his monitors. Nolan and two other French Assassins had their arms crossed as they stood in serious silence. Ezio and Altair had taken their seats nearby, not sure what to do.

In all honesty, Desmond felt bad. He wanted to find another way, he really did, but he knew they were running out of time. They needed to get back into the Fifteenth Century, locate Ezio's Apple of Eden, and then send Shaun and the others after it. He wasn't sure what happened after that since they were trying hard to keep him in the dark. This aside, he knew what they were doing was important and it could help stop the Templars. That was all he could ask for at this point.

"Ready?" Rebecca asked as she finished putting in a few codes.

"No." He answered truthfully, doing his best not to look at anyone, in particular Ezio and Altair because he knew they were internally panicking.

"All right." Rebecca grabbed the needle and inserted it into his arm, causing him to wince and then glare at her. "Good luck."

He knew instantly what they were doing was wrong. Electrical waves erupted through him as soon as he blacked out. Somewhere someone kept screaming and he wasn't sure if it was someone else or him who was doing it. The pain didn't show up until later after the Animus had loaded him into it. Images were flashing by faster than he could understand them. Faces zipped through his vision accompanied by echoes of voices. As they continued, he realized he was seeing the faces of his ancestors, but not just Ezio and Altair. Several people erupted across his vision, vanishing like smoke just as the next image appeared. More and more features could be seen and he realized he'd been thinking too much in a line. He had forgotten about his mother's ancestors and his grandmothers' ancestors on either side. He'd forgotten it wasn't a line, more like a circle with a network of people connected to it. Yes. It was more like a net spread out and he was simply tracing the thread back to specific people. There were hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of threads! He had barely even brushed the surface.

The screaming escalated. He griped his head, unable to process so much information at once. Nausea slammed hard into his stomach. If he hadn't been in the Animus, he was sure he would puke. With the sickness came the dizziness and headache. He found himself on the ground before he'd even realized he was going down.

"HELP ME!"

The words reached him and his eyes lifted to find Altair and Ezio there with him, both on the floor griping their stomachs and then their heads while shrieking in agony. He knew what they were going through: he was enduring the same hellish and unbearable pain.

He should have never done this. He should have known better.

The guilt did not ease the pain.

"MAKE IT STOP, REBECCA!" He shouted up at the nothing. "STOP IT! STOP IT! YOU'RE HURTING US! STOP IT!"

His eyes rested on Altair, seeming far worse off than Ezio. Blood was trickling down from his nose and his eyes were red as he brought them up to meet Desmond. The begging there made Desmond's stomach squirm.

"YOU'RE KILLING US!" Desmond hollered up into the void above him. "YOU'RE KILLING THEM!"

"It's okay, Desmond." Rebecca's voice was shaky, but far calmer than he had anticipated. "They're gone here. They're going back to their time. Then we can...we can resume our...search..."

"NO!" Desmond found his feet despite the pain. "NO! YOU CAN'T! YOU'LL KILL THEM!"

"They're already dead, Desmond." Shaun said matter-of-factly. "We're just sending them back where they need to be."

"No!"

Desmond stumbled towards the Masters, each beginning to fade now. Ezio had blood coming from his mouth and ears and he had clawed scratches into his cheeks with his nails as if to tear the pain out of his head. Altair had already collapsed completely onto his side and was barely moving, his groans the only real sign he was still alive.

"No..." Desmond fell to his knees again when he met resistance. "Why...can't I...go through?"

"We've quarantined them." Shaun informed him. "As soon as they're gone, we're going to Synch you up with Ezio, all right?"

"No..." Desmond began to beat on the invisible wall, trying to break through. "No...you're killing them...you're killing them..."

The pain was easing as the two Masters faded further away. Altair no longer moved or made a sound from where he lay only five feet from Desmond. His eyes were closed and he didn't appear to be breathing either. Ezio choked, blood spewing everywhere and soaking up into the nonexistent floor. He fell down finally and stilled.

Desmond was screaming again, banging fiercely on the wall though he had no strength to break through. Blood split across his hand as the tears filled his eyes. He didn't know what was happening. He couldn't tell if what he was seeing was real or not.

"His vitals are going haywire." Rebecca said from somewhere above him, but he was barely paying attention. "We have to pull him out."

"We're so close, Rebecca." Shaun sounded irritated. "Can't he stay in just a little longer?"

"If we don't pull him out now, he'll go into a coma and then he's gone for good."

"Pull him out then!"

"We're aborting, Desmond."

"No!" Desmond slammed his whole body against the wall, hoping he could break it. "EZIO! ALTAIR!"

Neither answered him. The room was fading out to white.

"NO! ALTAIR! EZIO! WAKE UP! _WAKE UP!_"

The white blotched out his vision as he was pulled from the Animus.

* * *

Desmond took only a moment to reorient himself before flying from his chair and slamming his fist into the first face he saw. The next few minutes blurred as he struggled against the grappling hands of those trying to restrain him while Shaun cupped a hand to his bleeding nose.

"You could have killed them!" Desmond hollered, shoving away one of the bodies attempting to constrain him. "You could have killed them, you bastards!"

His free arm swung about, his elbow making contact with someone's chest. He pushed the third away and spun, ready to bolt.

A shock erupted in his spine like fire as his entire body seemed to swell momentarily. He collapsed, dizzy with his vision blurring.

"Sedate him." Someone was saying. "We're take 'im across zee border. Miles can figure out what to do with 'im."

He blacked out shortly after.

* * *

Desmond dreamed he was falling and below him he could see the land, but it wasn't getting any closer. He could see Roma sprawled out below like some haven he needed to reach. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he wondered if Ezio was alive and there waiting for him to return. He feared even greater for Altair, sure the Syrian had not been breathing when he had last seen him.

"Brothers..." He cried out, aware he was probably speaking out loud. "No...I...I am so sorry. I didn't mean to...I didn't want to hurt you."

The ground began to approach now, but he couldn't stop himself. He watched as it closed around him, a hole opening up below and swallowing him into impenetrable darkness.

He knew he had no control over his life anymore. Whatever fate he had been deemed was now being decided by those around him, be it the Templars or modern Assassin Order. He didn't have a choice anymore. A part of him realized he needed to do this regardless because the whole world was dependent upon him finding the solution, but another part of him wanted to run. Running away from responsibility was what he was good at, after all. He had run from the Farm. He had run from Abstergo. He had run from Lucy and the others. He had run from the Assassins. All he was good at was running.

A jolt woke him up, but he wasn't sure if it was because he'd hit the bottom in his dream or if the vehicle he was in had hit a bump in the road.

On either side of him were men, but the vehicle was too dark to make out their faces. Two more were in the front seats. Panic welled up in him. Something was wrong.

His Eagle Vision kicked in subconsciously and he instantly reacted to the four red lights flickering around him. An elbow plowed into the face of the man to his right and then he'd spun to slam both of his hands into the face of the other guy. Shouting came from the front seat and he turned, ready to fight, but gave pause at the pistol pointed at his face.

"Who are you?" He demanded, but the man did not answer, simply smiling.

The car slowed to a stop and the door opened on the one side. Desmond tried to make a dive out, but was captured by several hands. His gaze rose up to the bright lights above him and his stomach instantly dropped.

Abstergo Industries.

How had he changed hands?

He fought his captors, but they were prepared for his struggle and his hands were bound.

"Easy there, Mr. Miles."

The voice made his head jerk up and he glared fiercely at the man standing up ahead, Lucy at his side.

"You bastards!"

Desmond shoved against his captors' holds even more aggressively, losing their grips finally and scrambling forward. He was captured before he could reach them.

"Us bastards?" Vidic laughed, amused. "But Desmond. We're not the ones who killed your ancestors."

Desmond froze, eyes wide as he stared at the man in horror. They were dead? No...Vidic was just trying to get a reaction.

"How do you know about that?" Desmond growled.

"Because we've been keeping tabs on you." Vidic replied, grinning. "It wasn't too hard to hack into your little group, what with Lucy on our side, though your ancestors were kind enough to reveal her true intentions. It was quite troublesome. No matter. We simply tricked your little friends into thinking they were actually in contact with your father, Mr. William Miles, am I correct? In reality, they were interacting with me. The safe house they went to? It was mine. We simply let them think they were safe there and then, when the opportunity presented itself, as in when your ancestors were no longer helping you and you were unconscious, we went in...killed them all...and took you back for our own."

Desmond stared at them in disbelief. This was not happening. He kept wondering if maybe he was still dreaming, but he couldn't tell.

"Now, we'll take you back up to the Animus and have you find us Ezio's Apple."

"You already have an Apple." Desmond argued bitterly, his lips feeling numb.

"Yes. Yes." Vidic waved this off as if it didn't matter. "But we need more than just the Apple, Desmond. The Apple Ezio possessed was...well, you don't actually need to know, do you?"

"Aren't you afraid?" Desmond tried. "I could Synch up with Ezio again and then you'll be in trouble."

"Oh, I don't think that will be a problem again." Vidic grinned. "You see, they killed him, didn't they? They killed your ancestors, so unless you are somehow able to raise the dead..."

Desmond's heart was beating faster than he had ever felt it beat. "They're not dead."

"Oh, but they are Desmond." Vidic replied, seriousness on his face again. "Haven't we already been through this? Your ancestors are dead. They've been dead for centuries. The only difference is now they're dead in your head as well. Now, it should be easier to unlock your genetic memories because there won't be any resistance. They'll simply let you because, well, they're dead and dead people don't fight back."

He felt his legs giving way beneath him as he slumped into the hold of his captors.

"Too shocking for you, Desmond?" Vidic waved at the men. "Bring him inside. We need to get started."

The fight and flight reflex returned at those words since Desmond knew he had no hope of escape if he went inside that building. He roughed his way through the guards, taking off down the street, but he didn't get far. Someone tackled him, pinning him to the ground, and injecting him with some sort of relaxant.

"Take..." The words slurred across his hearing. "Him...inside..."

"You..." His eyes met Lucy's. "Rebecca was your friend...they...trusted you...you traitor!"

Coldly she returned the stare, not blinking or even reacting to his words and he wondered for an instant if he had even spoken out loud.

Then he was inside being dragged along the corridors. He realized as he made his way they hadn't given him enough to pass out. He would probably even be fine once he got up to the room they would be keeping him in. He had a feeling they wanted to start immediately.

"I can't..." He resisted, though barely. He had no strength. "You're...evil..."

"Why is it the Assassins insist we're the bad guys?" Vidic asked, walking ahead of him. "Who is to say we're not the good guys? We want the same thing, Desmond. We want peace and goodness and happiness."

"At the cost...of freedom." Desmond replied, breathing heavy. "That's...wrong..."

"Freedom is the reason why we humans are in this mess." Vidic shot back. "It's because we have choice and choice is a bad thing, Desmond."

Desmond glared at the man. "I'm not going to argue with you, doc. You think you're right and until you realize you're not nothing I say or do is going to change that."

"You've matured." Vidic sounded shocked, but he smiled at Desmond regardless.

The doors slid open and Desmond was dragged into the room containing the Animus.

"No breaks this time around, Desmond." Vidic smirked as he stopped before the Animus. "You'll go in and you'll suffer through the whole damn thing from the painful beginning to the painful end until we have what we need. Then we will kill you."

Desmond was forced onto the Animus and strapped down to it. He realized he was about to see Ezio again, though this time from a third person point of view. His stomach tied itself in knots and felt as if he was going to be sick.

"Relax, Desmond." Vidic growled as Lucy started up the machine. "This could be worse."

"It doesn't get much more worse than this, doc." Desmond choked out.

"Getting all emotional?" Vidic snorted his amusement. "Come on, Desmond. I thought you had matured."

Desmond ignored him just like he tried to ignore the tears running down the sides of his face and into his ears.

"The Animus is ready." Lucy announced as the guards around the room took their places. There honestly wasn't going to be any escape this time. "I'm sending him in."

"It's about time." Vidic replied in his usual snappy way.

Bright light flashed in front of Desmond and he closed his eyes as he began to hope again.

* * *

"Something is wrong."

These were the first words Desmond heard when the Animus loaded up. There was a flash of light followed by a second one. Between them he saw the Animus' white world for a mere second before he was sitting up, gasping for air.

His head spun around to stare at his surroundings and his mouth fell open at what he saw.

He was in the hideout in Roma.

Desmond found his feet in an instant and then met the ground a moment later.

"Ow..." He groaned.

"Desmond!" Someone rushed up to him, pulling him upright. "Desmond!"

His eyes latched onto the features of one of the recruits. "Ouch..."

"You're wounded still." The recruit told him as he helped Desmond sit back down. "Easy..."

"Where's Ezio?" Desmond asked, pressing his hand to the wound on his side.

The recruit hesitated. "He...uh...he hasn't returned yet."

"What?" Desmond's head jerked up to stare at the recruit. "When did he leave? Where did he go? What happened? How did I get here?"

"I don't know the...answers." The recruit frowned and Desmond realized suddenly the recruit wasn't who he had thought at first. This was someone new.

"What is going on here?" Desmond stood, hunched over from the pain in his gut. "Where are the other recruits? What about Niccolo? La Volpe? Are any of them here?"

"No." The recruit followed him. "The others are out training. They left me to watch over you."

Desmond gritted his teeth, annoyed. They should have left someone who had answers, not some random new recruit Desmond didn't even know!

"I want to talk to someone who knows what is going on here." Desmond snapped, heading for the sewers.

"But..."

"If anyone shows up looking for me, I am either at the Barracks, the Thieves Guild or Rosa in Fiore Brothel. Can you relay that message?"

"Y-yes...but..."

"Good."

Desmond picked up a cloak folded on the desk before heading into the hallway leading to the sewers.

"I'll be back as soon as I have finished my business!" Desmond hollered back before entering the sewers.

His mind was racing through possibilities. He knew it was possible the recruit was simply confused by his questions and hadn't known the proper response. He knew it was possible Ezio and Altair were fine and he hoped this possibility was true, but there was also still the possibility they were not all right at all. They could honestly be dead, hence why the Animus had not worked like it was supposed to and had instead sent him back in time. Maybe he could rectify the problem. Maybe he had been sent before they had left and he could talk them out of leaving. He doubted this possibility, but he couldn't stop himself from hoping.

He eventually reached the Thieves Guild, but La Volpe was not currently in and none of the Thieves had answers for him. They did, however, want him to rest, though he declined the offer sterner than was probably necessary.

Fear ebbing at his mind, he reached the Barracks and received a hint of hope.

"Ezio has only been gone a couple of days." Bartolomeo replied. "I don't know where he went though or when he intended to return, but, Desmond..."

"I'm going to talk to Claudia." Desmond stated, turning to leave without listening to whatever else the man had to say.

At the Brothel, he was met by Ezio's mother, Maria, whom told him basically the same thing.

"Was Altair with him?" Desmond asked, worry evident in his voice and features.

"No." Maria replied. "I do not know where Altair is."

"Great."

Desmond bowed kindly to her and left, choosing this time not to take to the sewers. Instead, he searched the city for a bench with Leonardo's mark on it, sitting on one when he finally found it.

"You are Desmond, are you not?" Leonardo asked as he took his seat beside the young man. "What brings you to me?"

"I was hoping you had information on Ezio." Desmond mumbled, trying hard not to look at the man for fear of giving their secret interaction away. "No one seems to know anything."

"I am perhaps the most out of the loop of all of us." Leonardo replied, smiling slightly. "But you are in luck. I do happen to know where Ezio is."

Desmond's eyes widened momentarily and he flinched in desire to look at the man.

"He's on an important mission for the Brotherhood." Leonardo stated. "I know it takes place here in Roma, but it has taken a lot of time for him to complete. I'm sure he will return to the hideout as soon as is possible."

"And Altair?"

"I...don't know." Leonardo frowned. "You're not talking about the guy who wrote the Codex pages."

Desmond nodded.

Leonardo gaped at the young man. "Ezio did not tell me _he_ was here!"

Desmond stood. "Thank you for the information."

"You should rest, Desmond." Leonardo stated. "You look awful."

The young man agreed and headed for the nearest sewer entrance, hoping the guards didn't see him in the meantime. Once inside, he slunk along the dark passages, trying to keep from falling into the murky waters running beside him.

Abruptly, he ran into something and jerked, recognizing the feel of fabric and the warmth of a body. He reached for his sword hilt, but grabbed at air.

"Desmond?" A hand grabbed him and he realized abruptly who he was staring at in the dark.

"EZIO!" Desmond threw his arms around the Italian in an embrace, which was returned equally. "YOU'RE ALL RIGHT!"

"I'm fine! I'm fine!" Ezio clapped him on the back, concern entering his voice. "What are you doing here? You should be resting!"

"I was worried!" Desmond replied, not wanting to pull away yet despite it clearly being too long an embrace. "Altair? Where is Altair?"

"I am here, brother."

Desmond yanked from Ezio's arms to practically fling himself into Altair's.

"You're both alive! You're both all right!"

"Alive?" Altair sighed. "Dezmund, we're surprised you are alive."

"What do you mean?" Desmond pulled away.

"We've been having horrible dreams lately." Ezio told him. "Before you arrived. We thought you were dead. All of the dreams pointed towards it."

"I don't understand."

"We saw your people get attacked by Abstergo." Altair explained. "We thought...we thought you had joined them. We were shocked when we found you."

"Where did you find me?"

"You were found by one of the recruits." Ezio told him. "They found you passed out in a gutter, bloody and almost white as a ghost. It took a few doctors and a lot of luck to get you...well, you're standing now, which you shouldn't be."

"Come." Altair began to lead Desmond towards the hideout. "You must rest, Dezmund."

"Okay." Desmond didn't argue as he followed the Syrian through t he sewer system. "What's...happened while I was gone?"

"We have weakened Cesare's forces." Ezio explained. "His banker now lies dead and we preparing to take out his French general next. It's been...an interesting past year."

"I've been gone for a year?"

"Over a year." Altair muttered. "We've been searching for you and for a way to either return to you or get you here..."

"We were discouraged after seeing you..." Ezio didn't finish the statement, instead saying, "We eventually decided it would be best to get the Apple and reach you that way."

"Abstergo has me." Desmond ran a hand through his hair, which was still long. "I don't know if they can see what is going on here or not, but whatever happens to the Apple, Ezio, I cannot know."

Ezio agreed. "I will ensure they do not discover its location."

"But..." Altair interrupted, sounding uncertain. "Remember Minerva?"

The three fell silent as they recalled Minerva's warning. Desmond knew whatever was going to go down was going to cause a lot of trouble for the modern world.

"The Apple can be of use to me here." Desmond stated. "I don't need it in the future...I hope."

Altair sighed. "Let us hope."

They decided to abandon the topic as they exited up into the hideout.

* * *

Desmond stood on the rooftop overlooking where Ezio was closing the eyes of the French general. Time was slipping by again, faster than he wanted, and he turned to his apprentices, two of whom were now true assassins and Raffaele who was still working his way up the ladder.

"The area is secure." Enrico reported coolly, showing how much even in the past year he had matured. "The Frenchmen who lingered are dead. The rest have scattered."

Desmond nodded, feeling unsure whether or not he qualified as higher in rank than Enrico or if the two Assassins were now on equal footing.

"Desmond!" Ezio called up to the young man, whom turned to stare down at him. "Take them back to the hideout! I will meet you there and discuss our next attack!"

"Come."

With ease, Desmond took off towards across the buildings of the fort until he reached the far side and retrieved his horse from a waiting mercenary.

"Race?" Raffaele asked enthusiastically and Desmond felt a tug on the corners of his lips. "Come on, grande maestro. You're feeling up to it, aren't you? Or are you getting too old?"

Desmond's hands tightened on his reins. "And this is why you're still a recruit, Raffaele."

"What?" The young Assassin-in-Training gaped at his master, giving Desmond enough time to spur his lazy horse into action. "THAT'S CHEATING!"

* * *

"Look at him." Ezio chuckled as he and Altair rode together at a comfortable walk. "Playing games with the recruits and enjoying life. He would not get to experience this is if he was with the...well, if he was elsewhere."

"He learns quickly." Altair grinned, watching as Desmond laughed at Raffaele's anger over being tricked. "And I am glad to see him like this. I was worried, living as we were with him, he would never find happiness."

"If we could keep him here..." Ezio frowned. "If we could, I would ensure it happened. Here, I believe, he could find happiness."

Altair agreed with a nod, but he knew their wishes were bound to never be fulfilled.

* * *

Desmond paced the hideout while Ezio and Altair discussed their next course of action. His eyes flicked from the aging features of Altair to the scarred ones of Ezio, the skin marred by his own nails. His gut always clenched when he saw those scars, knowing he was to blame for them.

"Then we have a plan." Ezio stood from his chair, turning to leave, but froze at the sight of Desmond. "Um...Desmond, you'll have to forgive us, but it is probably best if you do not participate, since you are still healing."

Altair instantly argued. "He proved today he has healed successfully. You need all of the help you can get, Ezio."

The Italian hesitated and Desmond understood why. The last mission they had sent Desmond on, he had been shot and sent back to his own time. It was no wonder they were fearful he would face the same trouble.

"It's fine, Altair." Desmond bowed respectfully to the Masters. "Ezio is in charge here. If he believes I am not suitable..."

"Desmond." Ezio put both of his hands on the Assassin's shoulders. "I see you as almost my equal. The only difference is the amount of years standing between us. Altair is right. I need all of the help I can get and should not become so cautious as to leave a capable Assassin out of the fight. I will be relying on you again in this matter."

The words Ezio spoke to him did not ease Desmond's mind.

"We must go to La Volpe tomorrow." Ezio stated to everyone present. "This grows urgent. We must not assign any Assassins to missions abroad. I do not know when we will need them. Understood?"

Altair and Desmond agreed and the three leading Assassins sent their recruits to rest.

"Dezmund," Altair put a hand on the young man's back. "A word?"

Perplexed and curious, Desmond followed the Syrian out onto the top of the building where the Leap of Faith was taken for newly appointed Assassins. Ezio followed them out onto the platform, walking a ways as if there for support, but not to speak.

"You have proven yourself a worthy Assassin, Dezmund." Altair stated, holding up a hand when Desmond came to speak. "If I believe you are a worthy Assassin then it is unwise to argue against me."

Desmond saw the Master's point and nodded wordlessly.

"Though we worry for you and the incident in Colli Albani put us on edge, both Ezio and I agree you have excelled in your training, surpassing our expectations and the expectations of those around you."

Desmond's brow rose slowly.

"Though I am sure you will believe this is because of the Bleeding Effect," Altair continued. "And there is no getting around how it did help you awaken your Eagle Vision and the many dormant abilities you had lying within you, there is also no doubting you are a natural as an Assassin and possess great skill in every endeavor you set out to learn."

"Thank you." Desmond mumbled, not sure where this was going. "But I did screw up...bad...I mean, horribly."

"Desmond." Ezio laughed lightly from where he stood at the edge of the roof overlooking Tiber Island. "Each of us has 'screwed up' horribly. Altair nearly had Masyaf destroyed and I...well, I foolishly was wounded in Monteriggioni, putting both you and I at stake, and this is not counting the many other mistakes I have made in the past and present."

"But..."

"But nothing, Desmond." Ezio's smile had faded. "This is serious, brother. You must understand what we are telling you, we mean."

Desmond fell quiet as he looked between the two solemn faced Assassins.

"Dezmund." Altair grabbed the young Assassin's attention. "For you."

The ex-bartender looked down and stared in awe at what was being held out to him. He couldn't believe what he was seeing and he stared wordlessly at it for several seconds before registering he was supposed to take it and say something.

"But this..." Desmond reached for it, but could not bring himself to take it. "This would mean..."

"That you are a Master Assassin, Dezmund." Altair answered for him. "Yes. This is what it means."

Desmond took the second hidden blade and gazed at it, not sure if it was truly appropriate to wear the weapon or not.

"Desmond." Ezio came over to help him. "This is an honor. You should be proud."

"I don't think I..."

"We think you do." Ezio interrupted, smiling warmly at him. "And, honestly, it is our opinion that counts in the matter."

The second blade now attacked to his arm, Desmond faced the two Masters with stupefied awe on his face.

Altair grinned and patted the young man's shoulder. "Welcome to our side, brother."

He had thought his initiation as an Assassin would go down as the happiest day of his life: he had been wrong.

* * *

"La Volpe." Desmond started to argue, fearful of losing allies.

"No." The Assassin Thief glared at him. "Until Machiavelli is proven innocent, you can forget about my assistance."

La Volpe turned and stalked back towards the Thieves Guild's hideout, which had been jeopardized only minutes before.

"What are we going to do?" Desmond asked, turning back towards Ezio and Altair, both bloodied from killing Borgia soldiers. "We needed La Volpe."

"We do not need him." Altair growled, cleaning the blade of his sword on the grass. "The Assassins are capable of adapting. We can go in without the aid of Mercenaries, Thieves, and Courtesans. We often did in the past."

"This, I agree with." Ezio nodded. "We are Assassini. We can work on our own. I am simply glad we did not send anyone away for contracts. We will need all of our forces in order to complete this. I am sure of it."

"Let us see what is to be planned." Altair encouraged. "We must act quickly."

Desmond followed the Assassins to their horses, ready to begin their mission.

* * *

"This isn't good..." Desmond whispered as he watched Ezio make his way towards his awaiting recruits, all disguised as Roman soldiers, unaware of the gunmen placed around the Colosseum walls. "Enrico."

"Yes, Maestro?" The Assassin edged in closer to him.

"You and Luca remove the two patrolling near the arches. They should be easy enough targets. Do not be seen."

"Yes, Maestro." The two Assassins slid off into the dark, quiet as snakes in the grass.

"Raffaele." Desmond motioned the recruit closer to him. "We are targeting the one patrolling closer to the inner wall. We must not be seen."

"Yes, Maestro."

The recruit followed Desmond's lead down into the structure and the newly appointed Master let the recruit make the kill.

"Come on..." Desmond waited to see the other two Assassins enter his field of vision, but time was passing without anything happening.

Anxiously, he stuck his head out to see what was taking so long and froze at the blade pressing against his throat.

"What are you doing here?" The Borgia growled, glaring down at him.

Abruptly, the Borgia stiffened, eyes wide, and Desmond watched the guard fall slowly to the ground, guided by the hand of Luca.

"Don't trust our skill, Maestro?" Enrico asked jokingly as he slipped in beside his superior. "How goes the rescue?"

"Interesting we are here to save a man from assassination." Luca muttered, wiping the blood from his hidden blade.

"He's closing in." Desmond motioned to the group of Roman soldiers making their way slowly towards the three crosses and its surrounding crowd.

Raffaele and the two Assassins leaned over to get a better view of the Master readying for an important kill. Desmond understood their fascination. Watching a true Master, one born and raised for this purpose, snuff out the life of such an important figure to aid the Assassins' cause was certainly a memorable moment to be witness to. The way Ezio blended so perfectly with the Roman soldiers around him, acting as he was supposed to, made distinguishing him impossible, noticeable only when he took a single stride out of the formation to flick out his hidden blade and drive it into the heart of Micheletto Corella.

"A perfect kill." Enrico murmured in awe and fascination, voicing what the others around him felt.

"We are each capable of such." Desmond stated, though not sure if he believed his own words.

"No..." Luca mumbled. "Not with that much precision and prowess. Ezio is a natural...like you, Maestro."

"And Altair." Raffaele added, respect overflowing from his voice.

Desmond put a reassuring hand on Raffaele's sagging shoulders.

"You will be one of us soon." He promised, lifting Raffaele's spirits.

"Dezmund!" Altair hissed, catching the young Master's attention.

Desmond's gaze turned upward to see the Syrian above him on an arch.

"Something is wrong!"

Desmond's gaze turned to face the now disorderly theater, onlookers fleeing and Borgia guards apprehensively approaching the Roman soldiers standing guard while Ezio picked up a rather ill-looking Pietro Rossi, putting the Master Assassin at a disadvantage since he could no longer draw his weapons to protect himself.

"Protect Ezio!" Desmond ordered of his recruits, whom instantly obeyed, rushing towards the Borgia guards. His gaze turned up to Altair. "We must clear a way for him!"

The Syrian turned wordlessly, unsheathing his sword, and Desmond also pulled his blade from its hiding place at his side.

"YOU!" A Borgia guard shouted as he pointed at the approaching Desmond.

With ease, Desmond dispatched of the five guards around him, his confidence growing at not receiving even a scratch at the encounter. He followed the shadow of Altair as the Syrian rushed from the Colosseum after Ezio, whom had taken the actor to the nearest doctor.

"What has happened?" Desmond asked after catching his breath.

"He has been poisoned." Ezio replied, agitation in every motion of his body. "They were prepared, it seems."

"I will ensure our forces have survived." Altair patted Desmond's back and left without further word.

"Will he be all right?" Desmond asked, glancing at the doctor whom was tending to Pietro.

"He will be fine." The doctor replied without looking back at them.

"I should change..." Ezio glanced around as if expecting one of his subordinates to bring his Assassins robes.

Desmond stood back, putting a hand to his chin and observing Ezio in an obvious fashion. "I do not know, brother. I think the Roman outfit suits you."

Ezio chuckled, putting his hands on his hips and relaxing a fraction. "Naturally. I am me after all."

They shared a brief laugh before turning their attention back to Pietro, whom was sitting up slightly. It took little convincing to get the key to the Castello from him and the two Masters turned to find Altair.

"Hey." Ezio suddenly shouted, bringing Desmond's attention to a bald ragged looking man with an eye covered. "You were at the Villa during the attack on Monteriggioni!"

The man instantly fled and the two Assassins gave chase after him, though they found their way barred by Borgia guards.

"Catch him, Ezio!" Desmond yelled, drawing his sword to engage in battle. "Hurry!"

The Master rushed between the soldiers while Desmond fought, joined not long after by Altair and the other Assassins.

"You just find trouble everywhere, don't you, Maestro?" Raffaele laughed as his back pressed against Desmond's.

"Focus on fighting!" Desmond chuckled as he eliminated foe after foe with increasing ease.

The fight ended shortly afterwards and Desmond turned to the approaching Syrian.

"Where is Ezio?"

"He went after a man." Desmond shrugged, motioning in the general direction.

"We should follow." Altair faced the recruits. "Clean up any Borgia stragglers whom could report to Cesare. Then return to the hideout."

They all saluted him, their right hand over their heart and their heads bowed, before doing as he had ordered.

"Come."

Altair led Desmond at a jog in the direction Ezio had fled and soon found the man Ezio had pursued, dead upon the ground.

"Where is he?" Desmond wondered aloud, inspecting the wound, clearly made by a hidden blade, but not as cleanly as he had come to expect of Ezio. "Huh..."

"He drove the blade in himself." Altair pointed out, motioning to the spray of blood upon the man's hands. "This kill was not made by Ezio."

"The man was loyal then to the Borgia?" Desmond questioned, looking at Altair with concern. "He fled when Ezio called to him and the Borgia defended him."

"He is the traitor then." Altair stated.

Instantly, they looked at one another with wide eyes.

"_Machiavelli!_"

Rome rushed beneath their feet as they ran faster than either of them had run before. Though they were certain Ezio had come to the same conclusion and was ahead of them, they feared interference from the Borgia or any other, which would hamper Ezio's race against the clock.

They were relieved when they reached the hideout to find Machiavelli and La Volpe speaking pleasantly with one another while Ezio watched the two men walk away together. Altair and Desmond joined him, each trying to catch their breath.

"Success." Desmond raised his hand in victory, getting a raised brow look from Altair and a grin from Ezio.

"Thankfully." Ezio sighed, apparently as relieved as his equals. "I really need to change."

"Yes." Altair agreed immediately. "More clothes suits you better."

"Stronzo." Ezio scowled at the Syrian. "Desmond felt I looked good in them."

"I am sure he does." Altair grinned back and Desmond instantly saw the look of horror flash across Ezio's eyes.

"Cazzo!" Ezio spun on his heel to head inside of the hideout. "Vaffanculo entrambi!"

Desmond laughed, but there was no mistaking the anxiety in the action.

"Thanks, Altair." He muttered bitterly as soon as the Italian was out of earshot.

"I had to deflate that ego of his somehow." Altair put a hand on Desmond's shoulder and gave him a serious look. "And I do not mean any insult towards you, brother. Now, we should check to ensure all of the recruits and Assassins returned safely."

"Yes." Desmond faced the Syrian. "And I believe we should discuss initiating Raffaele. I believe he is ready."

Altair thought on this briefly. "Yes, we will speak with Ezio on the matter. I have to admit, I have hardly seen Raffaele in action. He was quite upset at your absence."

"Was he?" Desmond frowned. "I had no idea."

"I fear it took a negative toll on his skills." Altair admitted. "But Ezio was the one whom took over his training. Both Enrico and Luca fell beneath my hand."

"They progressed well, as expected." Desmond started towards the hideout.

"They had already done well beneath you." Altair stated. "They needed little refinement. It was because of this I insisted you be made a Master. You were clearly a good teacher and your recruits were loyal. I believed in your abilities most then."

Desmond smiled, not sure how to respond to such a compliment. "Thanks..."

"Trust in your skill, Dezmund." Altair urged of him. "I have noticed when you do, your confidence and your skill increases."

"I know..." Desmond nodded. "I just start to think too much about it. It doesn't feel like enough time has passed for _me_ of all people to be...a _Master_."

Altair seemed to understand. "I was young as well when I was made a Master. It astonished me and led to my arrogance. For you, it seems to be the other way around. You are astonished, but your confidence drops with it instead."

"You grew up on this life and stuck with it." Desmond reminded the Syrian. "I didn't...I mean, I grew up with it, but I left it all behind and I don't have nearly enough training."

"Your mind and your soul were meant for this." Altair told him as they paused in the main room of the hideout. "You merely needed to train your body. It is trained. All that is left is for you to let the three merge together. As soon as you do, you will understand why we made you a Master so young."

Desmond's eyes swept around the room to the recruits and Assassins within, each chatting with one another about the adventure they had been privileged to partake in. Enrico and Luca were laughing, both elated at their success, while Raffaele smiled beside them, turning his gaze to Desmond to give a congratulatory wave. Desmond returned it and grinned at Altair.

"I like this feeling." He stated.

Smiling, Altair agreed. "I know. As do I. It is in our blood."

Ezio entered the room, dressed now in his Assassins robes.

"Alcohol and free courtesans at Rosa in Fiore!" Ezio announced, grabbing the attention of his followers. "In celebration of course!"

Amid the cheers of the men, Desmond could see the roll of Beatrice's eyes.

Desmond laughed, signalling Altair's gaze to the female Assassin.

They shared a laugh, drawing Ezio to their side, whom found Beatrice's lack of enthusiasm amusing. Mockingly, he asked her why she was not excited at his gift to her.

"Stronzo." She muttered, heading for the sewer entrance with the other Assassins. "I'm going for the alcohol...and I'm going to find myself a woman who's twice the man you are in bed, Maestro."

Ezio's eyes lit up with excitement. "Can I watch?"

As if on instinct, Altair reached over to grab the beak of Ezio's hood and pull it down over the Italian's eyes.

"Respect your sisters." Altair snarled, though Desmond saw the amusement in the Syrian's eyes.

"Cazzo!" Ezio laughed, wiggling out of Altair's grasp. "Come! Let us all drink and be merry!"

"You celebrate too early." Altair grumbled as he followed the Italian after their subordinates. "We should be celebrating with the death of Cesare and Rodrigo."

"We'll just celebrate harder then." Ezio snorted amusement at the Syrian's glare. "Right now, we should be happy to have witnessed the true strength of our numbers. It is truly a honor to have seen what we are capable of as an Order. I feel blessed and a need to celebrate this personal victory."

"I agree with Ezio." Desmond cut in, walking beside Altair. "Relax, Altair, and try to have fun!"

The Syrian groaned, but consented to accompany them, if only to keep the two Masters in line.

"Remember you're an example to the others." Altair stated, though Ezio was probably ignoring him. "Try not to smear the Assassin name with your...are you listening, Ezio? No...no, you're not."

Desmond chuckled, forgetting for the first time in months how quickly time was flying by.

* * *

Desmond regretted joining Ezio in celebrating instantly. All around him women danced and flirted, grabbing the attention of his fellow Assassins. The smell of perfume and alcohol wafted in the air while the now packed brothel filled with the din of so many celebrating voices. He was glad Altair had chosen to join him and Ezio on the ground instead of finding a roost in the rafters. The Italian, however, was ignoring them both as he surrounded himself with eager courtesans, a mug of mead in his one hand and his other tantalizing the breasts of one of his attendants.

Altair seemed to be doing his best to block out the racket and wanton activities around him, but the courtesans made seclusion from the madness near impossible. Despite frequent dismissals, Altair was quickly cornered, offered wine and grapes by the hand, and given frequent gentle touches from the giggling women.

Desmond noticed the corner where Maria and Claudia's desk sat was empty of activity, no doubt to keep from ruining any important documents, and chose to hide himself there for the duration of the party since he knew it would be seen as rude to desert the celebration. From the stool he had found for himself, he watched the flirting and sexual tension rise, his own body warm from the alcohol and his desires peaking with it.

Thoughts began to run sluggishly across his mind.

Desmond wasn't sure what to call himself. He wasn't by strict definition "gay", or so he liked to believe. He found girls beautiful and sexually appealing, but had never been able to approach them, partially due to his own paranoia and partially because he had no idea what to say. He understood this was a problem most men carried with them. Even Ezio, he was sure, had been as socially awkward around women...at one time. Women were an enigma to him. He couldn't relate and he didn't know what to do with one.

He had liked Lucy. There was no getting around how much he had liked her, despite all of the stuff she had put him through. She had been a friend. He had trusted her. He had wanted her. Things were different now. What trust he had for her was broken. What feelings had been there for her were now gone. What desire had boiled up inside of his body had vanished like mist. With this trust and feelings and desire went a good deal of his like for women in general. He knew better than to judge all women on the one he had experienced, but it was only natural to do so. He had already been unsure of his sexuality, preferring the company of men, and it had almost seemed as if Fate had answered the question for him with Lucy's betrayal.

His eyes latched onto Altair, whom was still doing his best to reject the advances of the women around him even while now heavily intoxicated. Respect flared up in him at Altair's devotion to his wife and he had to look away, jealousy quick to follow the respect.

"You should find yourself some fun, Desmond." Ezio said as he suddenly sat down on the floor beside the young Master. "There are plenty of people to enjoy the night with."

"Not for me." Desmond replied, eyes searching for his recruits to ensure they were all right.

He spotted Raffaele kissing the nape of a courtesan while another rushed her hands over his back. The young recruit seemed to be enjoying himself. Enrico was having a drinking contest with several of the other Assassins and appeared to be losing, much to Desmond's amusement since he was sure he could beat any of them, being accustomed to much heavier alcohol. He couldn't see Luca and frowned when he realized this.

"Luca's outside." Ezio abruptly stated as if he knew exactly what Desmond was now worried about. "He was complaining about the smell."

"Oh..." Desmond stood and passed his goblet to the older Assassin. "Here. I'm going to go check on him."

"Get back inside soon!" Ezio called after him. "Or we'll worry!"

Desmond waved back in acknowledgement of the Italian's words before heading outside to look for his wayward subordinate. He didn't have to go far to find the Assassin talking back to a couple of guards whom had no doubt come over to question him.

"I asked you what you were doing here loitering about." One of the guards was saying in growing irritation.

"And I told you it's none of your business." Luca said in his deep voice, reminding Desmond of how few times he ever heard the normally quiet Assassin speak. Alcohol seemed to have loosened Luca's tongue.

"Is there a problem?" Desmond asked, approaching the guards, whom eyed him suspiciously. "Luca?"

"You know this man?" One of the guards asked, spitting at the ground. "And you too loiter around?"

Desmond motioned towards the nearby brothel. "I think it is clear what we are here for. Of course, it is crowded and a bit warm. It's only natural to come out for some fresh air."

The guards narrowed their eyes more, but decided it was probably best to leave the two men alone, seeing as they were both well-armed and clearly adept at using the blade.

"I am sorry, Maestro." Luca gave a quick bow of his head. "I did not mean to bring you trouble."

"Forget about it." Desmond waved off the apology. "I was just seeing what you were up to."

"You do not trust me."

It was a statement and the absolution in the man's tone worried Desmond.

"I trust you." Desmond reassured the other Assassin. "But it's my place to be concerned about you."

"There is nothing to be concerned with."

"I see." The young Master hesitated, not sure if he should question Luca further or let the topic rest. "Uh...well...hmm...it's a bit cold out here."

Luca glanced at him, a brow quirked, and then removed his cape to place it over Desmond's shoulders. Stupefied, Desmond stared blankly at the other Assassin, unsure of how to respond to the selfless gesture.

"Uh..." Desmond almost laughed, but managed to keep the sound contained. "I was more suggesting we head in side, Luca, but thank you."

"It reeks in there." Luca grumbled.

"Well, the more you drink the less it smells." Desmond smiled when he saw Luca's lips twitch. "Come on, Luca. We can find ourselves a window and drink ourselves into oblivion. It is what tonight is about."

The other Assassin nodded and Desmond returned the offered cape to his subordinate before returning to the brothel's interior. After shooing away one of Ezio's trainees and the accompanying courtesans, they occupied themselves at an open window with the contents of a few bottles of wine and mead.

Desmond didn't recall much after that.

* * *

Desmond awoke with a headache and an upset stomach, quickly rising to vomit into a nearby pail. As soon as he could, he sat up from hovering over the bucket and found someone with their hand pressed to his back. His gaze flicked over to see Ezio beside him in pants and a shirt, looking worried, but a smile still on his face.

"You have fun, Desmond?" Ezio asked, his grin growing a little as if he knew something funny he wanted to share.

"I suppose?" Desmond furrowed his brow at the man. "What happened?"

"Well, apparently, you are all right with women." Ezio waved behind them and Desmond turned his head slowly to find three women and Luca passed out on the floor. "Altair and I found you and him like this earlier today."

"What time is it?" Desmond groaned, sitting with his back against the wall and keeping the pail close.

"Nearly evening." Ezio informed him as he took his seat beside the young man. "We all had too much fun last night...well, except Altair."

"What happened to Altair?"

"I guess, he..." Ezio suppressed a laugh. "_Ran_...from the brothel..."

"You are so mean." Desmond sighed. "Let him be faithful to his wife if he wishes. I think it's sweet."

Ezio snorted. "The man has no...ugh..."

He gave up searching for the word he needed and moved on.

"Perhaps it is sweet, but he could show more passion in life."

"He has passion." Desmond gave the Italian a lopsided grin. "For work."

Ezio rolled his eyes. "That does not count."

Luca stirred and the two Masters watched him as if waiting for him to get up, but he merely rolled over and fell back asleep.

"I don't remember anything." Desmond admitted.

"Well, I doubt you and Luca..." Ezio trailed off, apparently unable to form the words. "Well, I doubt anything happened between you and him, but you two sure now how to share."

Desmond rubbed his eyes. "Man...I don't like having blank spots in my memory. It reminds me of when Abstergo...kidnapped me..._twice_."

Ezio frowned darkly. "I am sorry, brother. I should have watched your drinking."

"You're not my dad." Desmond grumbled, almost glaring. "And I'm old enough not to be watched."

"I am your ancestor." Ezio snickered. "I am entitled to act fatherly if I wish."

"You're not even twenty years older than me!"

"Means I'm plenty old enough to be your father."

"I knew you when you were seventeen."

"We did not meet until I was twenty-five."

"When _I_ was twenty-five."

Ezio didn't respond immediately.

"Yes...I see your point."

"Good." Desmond huffed. "Because that was going to be awkward."

"Still..." Ezio ruffled Desmond's hair. "You are younger than me and my responsibility while here in my homeland and era. It is up to me to protect you."

"Ugh..." Desmond rested his head back on the wall. "You're so...weird sometimes."

They fell silent as Luca snorted softly and the courtesans shifted their naked bodies around. Desmond glanced down at his own body, suddenly self-conscious, and was glad to see he wore pants, at least.

"Where's Altair?" He asked finally.

"I was waiting for you to ask." Ezio sounded slightly annoyed, but answered Desmond's question anyways. "At the hideout. He is going over tactical plans to get inside of the Castello. I intend to initiate my sister into the Order tonight, if you will join me."

"Of course, I will." Desmond perked, realizing he needed to sober up in only a few hours. "I wouldn't miss it."

"Good." Ezio stood, brushing off his pants. "And get Luca up. He should be there as well."

"Agreed." Desmond thought about standing, but decided he could reach Luca just as easily by crawling. "I'll meet you at the hideout in an hour."

"Very well."

Ezio gave a bow and left the room, Desmond finally realizing they were still at the Rosa in Fiore.

"Come on, Luca." Desmond crawled over to the sleeping Assassin to give him a shake. "Time to get up."

Luca groaned, batting away Desmond's hands, and trying to hide his face into a pillow.

Desmond snickered. "Wake up, you idiota."

Abruptly, Luca sat up, hitting heads with Desmond hard enough to send them both to the floor, hands on their foreheads and moans of pain coming from their lips.

"Bastardo..." Desmond grouched as he sat up again to glare at his subordinate, but the glare dissipated at the look of bewilderment on Luca's face. "What..."

He realized instantly what Luca's fear was and Desmond's gut seemed to drop out of him. Luca was afraid something had happened between them and Desmond had been too drunk to remember if something had. Quickly, he thought of a solution to their problem.

"Last night was wild." Desmond fumbled over his words as they slurred out of him hastily. "But seems we were able to get ourselves some courtesans before the others took them all."

Luca's eyes dropped from Desmond's to the girls scattered around them, still sound asleep despite their loud conversing. Immediately, he relaxed and gave a chuckle.

"Good morning, Maestro." Luca sat up, rubbing at his head. "Sorry...I thought you were...I had been dreaming about a guard...and being chased, so I am sorry about..."

Desmond swiftly waved away the apology. "Sadly, we can discuss our adventures and dreams later. We are to head back to the hideout for the induction of Claudia Auditore to our Order at the request of Ezio."

Luca immediately reached for his clothes, passing over Desmond's garments as he came across them.

"Last night _was_ wild." Luca agreed abruptly as he fastened on his cape. "I don't remember anything."

"I don't remember..." Desmond decided against causing Luca more fear and lied, "Much about last night, but we clearly had plenty of fun."

"I am glad you encouraged me to rejoin the celebration, Maestro." Luca smiled at Desmond as they left the room. "I feel much better."

"Good."

Desmond thought about how he had been sick the moment he awoke and felt a pang of jealousy over Luca's apparent lack of hangover.

"I hope our Order can celebrate often." Luca laughed and Desmond watched him with an abruptly different feeling.

Suddenly, he wished something _had_ happened between him and Luca, even though he knew it was best if nothing had.

He pushed these thoughts aside and continued the light-hearted conversation all the way back to the hideout.

* * *

**The next ten chapters :P**


	5. Ut Hoc Non Deficient

Chapter Five: _Ut Hoc Non Deficient  
_

"Congratulations on your promotion." Altair gave the other Assassin a serious look.

"Now you are both truly equals." Desmond stated as he approached them. "Both Mentors and above me, as it should be."

"You are a Master alongside us, Desmond." Ezio clapped a hand to Desmond's back.

"I am not a Mentor." Desmond reminded them, but smiled regardless since he liked how they considered him almost an equal.

"Ah, yes..." Altair slid in beside Desmond to whisper lowly. "How did last night turn out for you, brother?"

"You _know_ how it turned out." Desmond shied away from the Syrian. "You _saw_."

Altair shrugged as if seeing was not enough. "I saw you, some courtesans, and Luca, but I could not discern with whom you had the fun."

Red rushed up to Desmond's features and looked away from his ancestor, an awkward laugh coming from his mouth.

"Let's not let Luca hear those words." Desmond muttered lowly as Ezio and Altair focused more pointedly at him. "I think he'd kill himself."

"He would not kill himself." Ezio gave Desmond a disapproving look. "That's nonsense. Even if something transpired, I do not think he'd look at it in a bad light."

"He was horrified by the possibility." Desmond corrected the Italian. "Trust me. You didn't see the look on his face when I woke him."

Altair and Ezio glanced at one another, exchanging unspoken words Desmond could not even guess.

"Well," Ezio reluctantly moved on in the conversation. "At least, it seems the two of you had fun with the women. I am glad to see you loose some of your...tension, Desmond. I was worried you'd burst."

Desmond lightly smacked the other man, whom laughed mirthfully. "Cazzo."

Altair rolled his eyes. "Come. Let us discuss our plans."

They agreed and entered the hideout once more, but Desmond had a new worry developing, his eyes instantly searching for Luca. The Assassins met eyes and the subordinate gave a respectful nod of his head, acknowledging Desmond's presence. He returned the gesture and stuck close to Altair, worried of what would happen if Luca and him had done something and somehow Luca recalled it. His gut tightened and he quelled his worry. There was no point in concerning himself with nearly impossible 'what if' instances. Right now, they had to stop Cesare Borgia and the Templars. This was their top priority, taking a far greater precedence than Desmond's love life and affairs.

* * *

Desmond, watching from the wall, hit the stone with his fist when Ezio was unable to beat Cesare through the gate.

"ALTAIR!" He called back to the Syrian on the wall. "You have to hurry! You have to get to courtyard of the Basilica di San Pietro before Cesare does!"

Altair instantly took off along the wall and Desmond began to pick his way down the wall of the Castello, hoping to see or hear of Ezio's escape soon. He landed, fended off a couple of guards, and took off running in the direction of the Vatican district. Above him he could see Ezio had managed to escape the Castello's confines and was already ahead of him, as Desmond expected of a Mentor of Ezio's caliber. Using his crossbow, he took care of the guards hindering Ezio's journey and followed after the Italian. Somehow they too managed to beat Cesare to the egg-shaped golden dome, from which Altair was pulling the Apple of Eden.

"Another piece of sorcery." Altair muttered bitterly as he stared at the glowing orb.

"You!"

The three turned to see Cesare and two of his accompanying guards entering the courtyard.

"Looking for this?" Ezio asked, taking the Apple from Altair to hold out for Cesare to see, taunting him.

"It ends now, Assassino." Cesare drew his sword and three Assassins flicked out their hidden blades instinctively in response. "My sword will take your life."

His words appeared to be merely so as the man clenched a hand to his stomach where the poison ate at him.

"Guards!"

The two guards obediently drew their weapons and approached the Assassins without hesitation.

As if on instinct, Ezio used the Apple, forcing the two guards to kill each other, causing Cesare to flee the scene, screaming for more aid.

"Ezio!" Altair immediately disagreed with this use. "No! You cannot! It is an evil contraption! It is not meant to be used by mankind to control others! It is wrong! Using it in this manner makes you no better than the Templars!"

"What?" Ezio hissed, scowling at his comrade.

"Wait..." Desmond disagreed with the Syrian as well. "If it protects lives..._innocents_..."

"Do not the Templars make the same claim?" Altair growled and Desmond felt guilt at having stood against Altair's objection.

The shouts of approaching soldiers ended their dispute and Ezio pocketed the Apple.

"The body count will be large tonight, brothers." Ezio told them. "And we are at great risk like this. May each of us escape alive."

They each drew their swords, Desmond worried the choice to not use the Apple would result in one of their deaths and he had a feeling he was the most likely to lose his life.

The battle was a blur of bodies, sparks flying from metal clashing against metal, and Desmond could feel how tightly he gripped the handle of his blade. He was sure his hand would not release it so easily when it came time to. Blood splattered across his vision and he did not even have time to think about the life he'd snuffed out before he was occupied with dealing another death blow. They were overwhelmed. They were surrounded. They were losing.

"I am using the Apple!" Ezio shouted at Altair amidst the violence and clamor. "Or we are going to lose Desmond!"

Desmond jerked at hearing his name and lost his footing when a hammer slammed against his sword. Falling, he tried to block the next attack, but barely got his head out of the way. He felt the spray of shattered tile cut the side of his face and he rolled out of the way of the next attack.

A ripple of energy passed over him and he ducked down instinctively as golden light filled the room. The body count rose in seconds and Desmond stumbled to regain his footing only to find Ezio collapsed upon the ground.

"Ezio!" He rushed to the Italian's side and helped the weakened Assassin sit up.

"That...device..." Ezio mumbled, shaking and pale. "Is...evil."

"Come." Altair took the Apple from his fellow Mentor and pocketed it. "We must go before more arrive."

Ezio struggled to his feet, but put too much of his weight into Desmond. "I...can't..."

Altair grimaced, but wasted no time in grabbing the Italian and hoisting him over his shoulder.

"You must clear the way for us, Dezmund." Altair stated to the young Master. "We are relying on you."

Desmond nodded and turned, gripping the hilt of his sword tighter as he prepared for more battle.

* * *

"What has happened?" Beatrice gasped as she and several of the other recruits rushed to their Masters' sides.

Desmond collapsed into a chair, guided by one of his subordinates, and watched as Enrico and Augusto helped Altair place Ezio on a bench. The Syrian was shaking hard enough to nearly lose his balance and needed assistance to reach the chair his fellows provided him with.

The two conscious Assassins hung their heads, out of breath and exhausted. The run from the Vatican had been long and strenuous, filled with bloodshed and beatings. Desmond knew he sported many bruises and cuts across his body, but he was so sore all over he could not distinguish where one pain ended and another began.

Altair was looking no better. Though Desmond had cleared the way as best he could, some guards had still gotten close enough to strike at the Syrian. Being a Master and being Altair meant the Syrian had evaded most of the attacks, but, even from this distance with the hood covering most of his features, Desmond could discern a darkening welt forming on the man's face.

At some point during their escape, Ezio had passed out, the Apple having taken its toll on him. While he appeared the best of the three of them without any outstanding marks littering his body, his skin was ghostly pale and he seemed in immense pain.

"You can let go of your sword now, Maestro."

Desmond's eyes lifted weakly to meet those of Luca's as the subordinate took his master's hand in his own. Slowly, the lesser Assassin removed Desmond's fingers from around the hilt of his blade and the sword clattered to the stone floor.

Abruptly, Niccolo and La Volpe entered the room, both blanching at the sight of their bloodied comrades.

"What has happened?" Niccolo found his voice first.

"We were..." Altair cleared his throat, his voice hoarse. "Successful."

La Volpe knelt beside Ezio and checked his vitals. "We should bring a doctor."

"I will." Raffaele offered and hastily left the hideout before anyone could object.

"I am going to remove your armor, Maestro." Luca informed Desmond and the young Master weakly nodded acknowledgement.

Tediously, Luca took off Desmond's armor and weapons until only his shirt and pants remained, which gave the arriving doctor a better view of the many wounds lining his body.

"You are all going to live." The doctor assured them after inspecting and treating each man's wounds. "But you need rest."

Niccolo seemed like he wanted to argue this point, but made no comment.

"Rest it is then." La Volpe encouraged as he pulled a blanket from a shelf to place beneath Ezio's head. "All of you."

"Would you like for me to find you a place to rest in our quarters, Maestro?" Luca asked as Desmond stood shakily.

"No..." Desmond shook his head. "I'll rest in my room."

Luca seemed reluctant to let Desmond leave and Enrico and Raffaele agreed with their comrade.

"You are greatly wounded." Enrico pointed out. "And should not be overly exerting yourself."

"Rest here, Dezmund." Altair stated, having already succumbed to the wishes of his subordinates and was resting on the floor in a makeshift bed. "It is not good to push yourself."

Reluctantly, Desmond complied and permitted his followers to provide him with a bed similar in make to Altair's.

"I am fine." He insisted as he urged his subordinates to find rest for themselves. "We need to all be ready for what is to come."

"Maestro..." Enrico hesitated, worry on his features. "Are you sure there is nothing more we can get you?"

"Peace and quiet." Desmond suggested, causing the three to smile at him. "Thank you."

They finally bid him good night and he quickly drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The following morning found Desmond awake, if sore, and moving around the hideout while Altair and Ezio, both appearing better than they had the night before, discussed their next course of action.

"We must weaken his forces." Ezio stated, full of far more vigor than his comrades. The Apple's affects had already worn off and he was left with only his war wounds to tend to. "Strike him while he is still weak."

"But we will not use the Apple." Altair insisted, still strongly opposed to the use of the artifact.

"Well..." Ezio mused.

"Look what it did to you!" Altair snapped. "You were near death!"

"I survived."

"Barely!"

"We need an edge in this battle!"

"We are enough!" Altair stood though it pained him and glared down at the Italian. "We will simply have to be! If we do not stick to our Creed, if we let ourselves go against what we teach, if we use the weapons of our enemies than we lose the value of what we do! We become no better than them! The line, the distinction between what we do and what they do is lost! Have you not realized this yet, Ezio? The Templars seek the same goal as us! We both wish for peace and for mankind to prosper! It is the means by which we go about it that differentiates us! If we do as they do than we lose this distinction!"

Ezio grimaced at the object set between them. He did not speak. The recruits and subordinates throughout the hideout were focusing on their tasks, be it reading or giving advice to one another, but there was no missing how their ears were trained towards the conversation in hopes of hearing Ezio's response.

"You are right." Ezio finally relented. "You are completely right, Mentor. I was foolish. I let the power of the Apple blind me and I sought after its power. While I know I meant its use only for the sake of those around me, to promote peace and save lives, use of it puts me on the same level as our enemies and I will not have that. It is...an evil artifact. I will not use it again if I can help it."

Altair relaxed and took his seat.

"Brother...do not feel guilt for wishing to use it. I too thought its use could be for the prosperity of mankind, but I know this...contraption can only beget destruction."

Ezio nodded, agreeing once more. "We will rally our allies, the mercenaries, the thieves, and the courtesans alongside our Assassins. Our combined forces should be enough to...to destroy Cesare's current forces here in Roma."

"Yes." Desmond approached the table, making his own opinion known. "We might not have as many in number, but we are far more capable as soldiers, as warriors. We do not need as many men as he does."

Ezio smirked at this. "We will strike down his forces and weaken him. We simply must know when to strike."

"No doubt our allies can locate his forces." Altair pointed out. "If we cannot."

Ezio stood from his seat. "Come. We must speak with Leonardo. He says he has a special weapon set for us, which may come in handy."

The three left the hideout, unarmored, but with subordinates in tow since they were far too vulnerable like this.

Once Ezio was seated on one of the benches Leonardo had marked and Altair and Desmond had taken up a stand not far from the location, they waited, though they did not have to wait long.

"Ezio," Leonardo began in a hush, though Desmond and Altair still caught the conversation. "The papal apartments are in turmoil. Cesare is ill and the Pope, dead. It was your doing, was it not?"

Desmond raised an eyebrow, having forgotten how much had happened in only one night.

"Leonardo," Ezio explained gruffly. "I swear to you, he did not die by my hand."

"This world gets stranger every day." Leonardo shook his head in disbelief, eyes focusing upon Altair and Desmond. He acknowledge them with a nod, which they both respectfully returned. "I shall have to focus on my painting. I work on the small portrait of a woman. I am growing rather fond of it."

Desmond stifled a laugh, knowing exactly which painting the man was referring to. He noticed the strange look he received from the Mentors and Leonardo and tried to cover it with a cough.

"Do not let a beautiful girl distract you from constructing my designs." Ezio stated and Desmond gave him an annoyed look, feeling the Assassin had no room to talk about female distractions.

"Have no worries." Leonardo reassured Ezio, placing a hand on the Assassin's back. "Women...provide little distraction."

Desmond's mouth fell open before he could stop it and Altair instantly turned away, eyes turned skyward as if asking God why.

For a moment, Ezio did not speak and his following words were met with disbelieving looks from his equals.

"Wait...I don't get..." Ezio froze as realization flooded his eyes.

Leonardo's hand removed itself from Ezio's back as if sensing the trouble he had unleashed.

Ezio stood and motioned towards Desmond.

"Leonardo, have you met Desmond?"

"_Ezio!_" Desmond and Altair said in unison, gaping at their Italian friend.

Leonardo stood, smiling nervously as he approached the other two Assassins. "It is Desmond Miles and Altair Ibn-La'Ahad, the latter of which Ezio did not seem necessary to mention was visiting."

"I was afraid it would shock you." Ezio told the painter.

"Or that you'd fanboy all over him." Desmond muttered more to himself than his fellows.

"It is an honor to meet you." Leonardo glanced around anxiously, but seemed to decide the opportunity to meet two time-travelers was worth risking his life. "I deciphered your codex pages for Ezio here. They were quite fascinating. The work of a true master mind."

"Thank you." Altair bowed his head respectfully. "Though I admit, I haven't written all of them yet."

"Ah, yes, of course." Leonardo's eyes seemed to spark with interest and fascination. "You are not quite the age to have written some of the final ones."

Ezio was giving the conversation between Leonardo and Altair a studious look as if what was happening had not been what he had intended. Desmond gave him a warning glare, not wanting this interaction to become any more awkward than it already was. He was ignored as apparently Ezio liked playing matchmaker.

"So Desmond is single." Ezio stated bluntly causing Desmond to scowl and Altair look skyward once more in a prayer-like fashion.

Leonardo's cheeks warmed visibly and he gave Ezio an anxious smile. "Is he now? Well, I'm sure he will find a suitable woman if its the last thing you do, Ezio."

The Italian let out a laugh. "Well, women provide Desmond with little distraction."

"_EZIO!_" Desmond and Altair again said simultaneously while Leonardo stared down at the ground in red-faced embarrassment. Desmond was sure he would die right then and there if his pride would have let him.

"What?" Ezio gave his comrades a confused look. "Are you not lonely, Desmond? Oh..." he paused, frowning. "Wait...I guess, I should have checked to see if you were lonely, Leonardo, my friend."

Leonardo was making a point of not looking at the Italian Assassin as he mumbled, "I am...not lonely, my friend."

"Ah..." Ezio frowned, almost pouting at his lack of success. "Well, Desmond, I tried. Leonardo, if ever you _do_ find yourself lonely..."

"Shut up already, cazzo!" Desmond yanked down Ezio's hood, wishing the conversation would simply end. "We are perfectly capable of finding ourselves...special friends...and we can talk to each other about it if we wish! We don't need you trying to be some weird matchmaker trying to hook us up together."

"Exactly." Leonardo whimpered, a hand over his mouth. "Ahem...I um...I am sure you are wanting those...poison darts...I will go make them for you all now...excuse me."

He quickly exited the scene and Desmond instantly hit the Italian's arm.

"Cazzo!" Desmond hit him again. "Stronzo! Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was..._for both of us!_"

"You are not the only two embarrassed." Altair cut in. "I feel embarrassed _for_ you."

"I was only trying to help!" Ezio threw up his hands in defeat. "If I had known you two weren't...compatible..."

"Shut up!" Desmond was halfway between bursting into tears and bursting out laughing. He couldn't decide. "You are such an...idiota sometimes! How are you popular with the ladies?"

"Well," Ezio gave them a smile, which meant Desmond should not have asked that question. "When you are as...gifted as me, the ladies are always guaranteed to be pleased."

"Yeah. Yeah..." Desmond crossed his arms. "Stronzo."

He made a quick glance to the roofs surrounding them, well aware Luca was one of the Assassins accompanying them. He couldn't see the Assassin, but he hoped against all hope his subordinate had not heard the conversation. Things were awkward enough between them without Ezio making things worse.

* * *

"I cannot believe you!"

It had been several hours already since they had left Leonardo behind, having received their new poison darts after almost an entire day of waiting. The wait had been nearly as bad since Ezio and Altair had argued for most of it. Then Leonardo had arrived and Ezio had tried to apologize, though had still been insistent the painter get together with Desmond should he ever find himself alone. This had meant awkwardness to its fullest by the time the three Assassins departed from Leonardo's company.

"I am going to kill you." Desmond decided. "I am going to kill you! It is the only way to ensure at least some of these horrible feelings go away!"

Ezio rolled his eyes. "I am only trying to help you."

"Well, stop." Desmond growled. "You're not helping. You're making things worse."

Frowning, Ezio grumbled an apology. "I simply worry for you, brother. I don't want you to be lonely."

"I can figure this out on my own!" Desmond insisted. "I don't need help!"

"I think you do though." Ezio argued. "You're a rather socially awkward person...a bit like Altair here."

"Hey." Altair snarled, though he was ignored.

"I just don't want you to turn out like him." Ezio continued, unfazed by the interruption.

"You are a complete stronzo." Altair snapped, infuriated. "I am not...what is wrong with the way I am?"

"You have a stick...no a log...shoved so far up your ass you'd kill yourself with the splinters if you tried to pull it out." Ezio stated as if this "fact" was common knowledge.

"I agree with Desmond." Altair hissed, red forming on his cheeks. "Death is the only way to ensure some of these horrible feelings go away."

Ezio didn't seem bothered by the threat. "Look. Desmond. I don't want you to be unhappy. I don't want you to be lonely. I honestly just want to help. I may be going about it wrong..."

"You are." Desmond cut in.

"But my intentions are good, I swear."

The sincerity in Ezio's voice and eyes caused Desmond to sigh and relax a fraction.

"I just don't need help, Ezio." Desmond mumbled, rubbing a hand over his face. "I don't need you to be looking out for me like this. I can figure it out on my own and I _want_ to figure it out on my own. All right?"

"It is not always good to do things alone, brother." Ezio's concern had not lessened. "I fear for you. I truly do. If I can help in anyway, I will."

"All right, help." Desmond couldn't keep the irritation from his voice. "And do nothing. That would be a help."

Ezio looked away, clearly hurt, which caused Desmond to backtrack.

"I'm sorry." Desmond muttered, working hard to keep the bitterness from his tone. "I'm just...that was humiliating, Ezio. It was awkward and it put both Leonardo and myself..."

"And me." Altair threw in.

"And Altair in a very awkward and embarrassing situation. We were on the spot! The light was shining on us and we couldn't escape it! Now, in my time, being...like me...is more acceptable than it is here, so I can't even imagine how horrified Leonardo was."

Ezio stared at the ground, slightly ashamed, though it didn't seem like he regretted his actions.

"Let's just not go through that again." Desmond advised. "Stop trying to hook me up with people. That would be great."

"Fine..." Ezio glared off at the scenery, but Desmond was merely glad the Italian agreed. "But I am going to see you find happiness if it is the last thing I do."

"Great." Desmond replied dryly. "Well, we're here."

They entered the hideout and Desmond began to silently pray to any god who was listening that Luca and the others had not heard the conversation. He was blessed and cursed, it seemed.

Luca and Enrico came into the hideout a couple of minutes after the Masters, the former seeming oblivious to any sort of embarrassing conversation and the latter giving Desmond an awkward I-know-all-about-it smile. Desmond sighed heavily and focused on the meal they were about to enjoy, grateful and bitter all at once at the situation he had been given.

* * *

The next couple of weeks were spent destroying Cesare's forces, much to Desmond's delight. It meant they had hardly any time to spend alone at the hideout since they had to locate the Borgia, kill them, and follow Cardinals around to random meetings. He commanded his recruits, glad Enrico hadn't brought up the incident with Leonardo either to Desmond or anyone else, and eventually they promoted Raffaele to the rank of Assassin, initiating him finally into the Order.

"I am an Assassin." Raffaele boasted to his comrades, all of whom had been made Assassins before him. "Does this mean it is easier to pick up ladies?"

Enrico laughed as Desmond smiled around a goblet. Nearby Ezio and Altair were snickering to each other over Raffaele's arrogance and Desmond had no doubt in his mind both were intending to deflate it.

"Good luck with that." Enrico told his younger fellow. "You're not supposed to go around telling everyone what you are. It will help you with the courtesans though since they are aware of our Order. "

Raffaele wrinkled his nose slightly. "Courtesans are nice and all, but I'm looking for a real woman...that I can keep to myself."

"I am sure the Mentor has tips for you." Luca tossed in, causing Raffaele to hang his head.

The young Assassin apparently feared Ezio some, preferring Desmond as his teacher and superior. Supposedly, from what Desmond had managed to learn, Ezio had grown harsh towards the young recruit since Raffaele had taken Desmond's disappearance hard. Ezio and Altair had been suffering on their own levels and seeing someone who knew Desmond less suffer more from his loss had irritated the Italian to no end. Subsequently, he had taken this annoyance out on the youth, pushing Raffaele harder than he had his other recruits and eventually leading to a sort of stagnation in Raffaele's training. With the return of Desmond and resumption of Raffaele's training beneath his former teacher, Raffaele had once again excelled. It made Desmond proud it had been him who had managed to get Raffaele back on track and finally initiated into the Order. He simply wished it had been easier for the young man to do so without having to endure the dilemma he'd been placed under.

"I'll just ask Desmond for tips." Raffaele suddenly announced.

"Good luck." Enrico snorted, casting Desmond a knowing look, which made the young Master instantly on edge.

"Will you not help me, Maestro?" Raffaele asked, turning towards his superior, whom hesitated on instinct.

"Uh...er...I'm not particularly good at...finding women..." Desmond fumbled, embarrassed once more. "I mean, the only woman I found who I had thought was...suitable turned out to be a traitor."

"_Really?_" The three whom had trained beneath him instantly leaned forward, expecting a great story.

"I've never heard of this." Enrico said, intrigued. "Tell us how it went, Maestro!"

Desmond gazed at his subordinates in near horror, not expecting to have to tell this story to them. He instantly considered backing out of it, coming up with some lame excuse not to tell it, but a glance at Ezio and Altair told him he had best get it over with now.

"W-well, um..." Desmond thought about how to start the tale. "I-it all began when I was young. I had been born into an Assassin family and had been training since I was young. My father...he pushed me hard to excel. We were always ready to leave if we had to. The Templars were looking for us, after all. I...didn't believe my father. I thought my family was just...paranoid. I though the Templars were a lie and, since I had never seen one, didn't have any proof to tell me they were real. So when I was sixteen I ran away."

All three subordinates' eyebrows rose in surprise. They settled down a little more, intrigued and fascinated with his story. He glanced at Altair and Ezio and they encouraged him to continue, apparently quite interested as well. All around him, subordinates were beginning to gather, avidly awaiting more of his tale.

"I went to work at a...t-tavern." He continued, choosing words the Italian Assassins would understand. "I served drinks for our customers and I tried to live my life out of sight. I may not have believed my parents, but the paranoia came with me and I didn't want to risk being caught, either by the bad guys or by my fellow Assassins. Then...one day...I was caught. The Templars had found me and they came after me. I wasn't prepared and they managed to capture me."

The look of horror on the faces of his listeners made him nervous. He wasn't sure if he was lowering their view of him or was simply a good storyteller.

"They were looking for a thing they called a Piece of Eden, which you know of as the Apple. They were sure I could lead them to it somehow. The way they went about it is confusing, even to me, and I'm not sure I truly understand it. Using a form of...sorcery, they were able to get me to relive the life of Altair."

He knew his fellow Assassins were aware Altair and him came from different times, the former from the past and the latter from the future. He knew they had accepted this as fact without much explanation, but he wondered sometimes if they doubted it. Now was a perfect chance to test how well they believed him.

"Through this, I was able to make contact with Altair and he helped me escape the grasp of the Templars. Now, while I was there with the Templars, I met a wonderful woman named Lucy."

Enrico and Luca smiled slightly, but Raffaele frowned. They all knew where this was heading.

"She said she was an Assassin and she was planning on helping me get out of there." Desmond recalled the memory with growing remorse. "When Altair and I escaped the Templars, we eventually met Lucy and another Assassin named Shaun. I trusted her...against better judgement, and went with them to their hideout. They wanted me to relive the life of Ezio in his younger years and train alongside him. I did, making contact with Ezio when the opportunity presented itself, and the three of us, Altair, Ezio, and myself, became close friends. They showed me Lucy was a traitor and they helped me to escape her and the others, though the others were good. I trained with Ezio and Altair for some time, but eventually we were captured by more Assassins. They didn't mean me harm, but their way of going about trying to help me wasn't exactly encouraging. I managed to leave them all behind and join Ezio here in Italia and soon Altair joined me."

"Then what happened?" Enrico asked when Desmond did not immediately continue. "Did you find out if Lucy was truly a traitor?"

"The time when I went missing," Desmond told them. "I returned to the Assassins. I had been shot and was greatly wounded. Altair and Ezio managed to reach me there and I recovered as quickly as I could, but the Assassins...they meant well, but they went about it wrong. They tried to kill Ezio and Altair, sure this was the only way to get to the Apple before the Templars completed their plan. I got angry and I attacked them, but they knocked me out. When I woke, the Templars had me again. They had been keeping an eye on us, having infiltrated our forces, and when the opportunity presented itself took me back to them. Lucy was there, helping them, and she did not feel any remorse for her betrayal. The Templars tried again to find the Apple, but I managed to escape back to here. I am lucky, in this way."

He could see the hate in their eyes, the loathing they felt for the Assassins of Desmond's time, and the disgust they felt for what the Templars had done to their Master.

"Time to rest." Ezio announced, rising. "All of you. Tomorrow, we attack Cesare one final time before he manages to escape. We will see this end."

They all stood, giving their Masters respectful bows before leaving. Ezio patted Desmond's back as the young Master tried to contain the suddenly close feelings of sadness and bitterness for what had happened in his life.

"It is good you told them." Ezio stated reassuringly. "Not for them to hear the words, but for you to speak them."

"I know..." Desmond choked. "It's hard though..."

"It is." Altair agreed, approaching them. "But it is good."

"Yeah..." Desmond nodded, swallowing down the lump forming in his throat. "It is...I got to meet you two...and I will never regret that."

He meant the words with his whole heart and he was glad when he saw the understanding and returned feelings the two Mentors held in their eyes.

* * *

They were in a bad situation and Desmond wasn't sure if he should be blaming himself or not. The fight had gone on easily against Cesare's remaining forces, but now...they were at an impasse.

Cesare stood there with a knife held firmly beneath the chin of Raffaele, the blade cutting into the pale skin and letting red run freely onto his tunic. The Assassins were frozen while a small force of men approached behind the gate.

"You will lower your weapons, Assassini." Cesare ordered. "Or I will kill him."

Ezio glanced at Altair, though Desmond barely noticed.

"Kill him then." Ezio shouted back at Cesare. "He will die with honor, while you will not."

"You would let me kill one of your own." Cesare laughed. "And you follow this man so faithfully."

"This coming from the man who poisoned his own father." Ezio argued and Desmond wasn't sure if he was buying them time or provoking Cesare further.

Altair shifted slightly and Desmond's eyes followed him, wondering what the Syrian had planned.

"Do not move!" Cesare screamed at Altair, apparently having noticed the motion. "Or I let him squeal like the caught pig he is!"

"You're the pig, Cesare." Desmond shouted back. "And the coward. Sleeping with your sister, murdering the innocents of Roma, and now using another as a shield. You cannot stand alone! You refuse to be anymore than another useless man, unable to find strength in himself, so relying on the power of others, or on the power provided by objects like the Apple. You are weak. You are pathetic!"

Cesare shoved Raffaele forward, drawing his sword at the insults.

It proved his undoing. Altair's arm raised instantly and the bang rang throughout the court. The bullet struck Cesare's shoulder and he collapsed backwards on the ground. Ezio rushed forward to pin him while Bartolomeo and La Volpe went to open the gates for the approaching soldiers. Fabio Orsini led them and announced the arrest of Cesare Borgia under the decree of Pope Julius II.

As Cesare was dragged off by the soldiers, Desmond rushed to Raffaele's side.

"Let me see." Desmond ordered as he removed Raffaele's hand from the wound. "It is not deep."

"He was going to let me die..." Raffaele mumbled, his eyes fixated on Ezio.

"They were only words, Raffaele." Desmond stated, removing his cape to press against the wound. "Come. I will take you to a doctor."

"I don't think they were words, Maestro." Raffaele coughed, holding onto the cape as Desmond helped him stand. "I think he meant them...he has always hated me..."

"He does not hate you." Desmond argued, slinging Raffaele's arm over his shoulders and helping the staggering young man out of the court. "He was having his own problems whilst training you."

"He hates me."

Raffaele's conviction did not waver throughout their journey to a nearby doctor for treatment and Desmond gave up trying to convince him otherwise.

* * *

Desmond rubbed his eyes, exhausted and worried about Raffaele. He had shared his concerns already with Ezio and Altair and the former had gone to apologize. It had not ended well with Ezio and Raffaele getting into a shouting match and the Mentor, for lack of a more appropriate term, _grounding_ his subordinate. It had been ugly and Desmond had been the one who had to go after his recruit and try to explain the inner workings of Ezio's mind, which he was clearly not qualified for. Finally, he had side with Ezio on his decision to 'ground' Raffaele and been left with this awful feeling the young man was now furious at him as well, but in a more betrayed sort of way.

"I hate my life." He grumbled into the air as he stared at the dark ceiling above him.

"It isn't that bad, is it, Maestro?"

Desmond sat up on his bed and looked at the door, which he had apparently left open. Enrico stood there, smiling at him awkwardly.

"Is there something you need?" Desmond asked, choosing to ignore the question.

"I was..." Enrico frowned, reluctant to speak his mind. "I was simply wondering if we could...discuss something."

"Come on in." Desmond stood to pull a chair over for his subordinate before returning to his seat on his on bed. "What is bothering you?"

"Quite a few many things." Enrico replied vaguely, rushing a hand over his head, thus removing his hood. "I foremost wished to ask you about Raffaele. How is he?"

"He is going to heal..." Desmond replied slowly, though he was aware this was not Enrico's true concern on the subject. "But he is...rather upset about Ezio's apparent lack of concern for his well-being."

"The rest of us understood our Mentor's true intention." Enrico stated. "And had it been Maestro Altair we are sure Raffaele would not have grown so...upset about it."

"I am sure as well." Desmond agreed, frowning profusely. "Well, what else is it you wished to discuss?"

"I wanted to speak to you about Luca."

Desmond froze initially, but managed to overcome his temporary paralysis and give the man a nod to proceed.

"He is concerned..." Enrico stuttered over how he wished to word his sentences. "A-apparently, he is fearful of the night we celebrated."

"Which we will be doing tomorrow night." Desmond tossed in, trying to pretend he had no idea where this was leading. "According to Ezio."

"Y-yes." Enrico smiled, partially excited about the prospect of free alcohol and whores, though apparently still too concerned to show much of this excitement. "He speaks of...how much he does not remember. He is fearful something may have transpired between you and him."

"Nothing did."

"He knows you are not certain of this."

"Nothing would have..."

"He also knows of the conversation you had with the Mentors and Leonardo."

Desmond's gut tangled itself up inside of him.

"How?" He croaked out dryly, all saliva having evaporated from his mouth in an instant.

"He witnessed the interaction." Enrico admitted. "And confided in me about it."

Desmond looked away, embarrassed and feeling suddenly very aware of his senses. The fight or flight reflex was kicking in.

"I...um..." Desmond swallowed, but it only hurt his throat. "I am certain nothing happened."

"But you are not and this concerns Luca." Enrico argued.

"Why does it concern him?" Desmond nearly snapped the question. "Why is he concerned?"

Enrico hesitated and picked his words carefully. "He does not...wish to have...insulted you, Maestro."

"Insulted me?" Desmond asked, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"He is...afraid..." Enrico mumbled. "He does not wish to have...taken...advantage of you..."

Desmond's brow rose.

"It concerns him greatly!" Enrico spilled out quickly. "He is worried you may be angry at him or perhaps he has insulted you because he does not remember."

"He isn't horrified it may have happened?" Desmond asked dryly, though he hated how much he hoped.

"He is terrified it may have happened!" Desmond wasn't too surprised by the answer, though he admitted to himself how much it bashed his hopes. "He does not wish to insult you, Maestro, but Luca is not the type to...prefer the company of men over women. The courtesans, however, refuse to answer his questions and this concerns him. He is afraid something may have happened and he does not...he hopes nothing has."

Desmond nodded. "I hope nothing has either, but there is nothing we can do if it did. If you wish, let him now I am not angry nor insulted by him. I do not wish him to concern himself with this any further. It may hamper his abilities and I do not want to see him digress from the capable Assassin that he is."

Enrico nodded, sensing their conversation had ended. "I will inform him of as much. Thank you for hearing me out, Maestro."

"Any time, Enrico."

The Italian Assassin left and Desmond flopped back on his bed, covering his face with his arm.

Why had he thought the Sixteenth Century would be filled with less drama?

* * *

Desmond hated how he kept finding himself in the Rosa in Fiore, even though he loathed the place. Purposely, he avoided Luca and Enrico, hiding himself in the corner and watching over his recruits. Raffaele wasn't there, still grounded according to Ezio. The other two were holding a drinking contest, Luca besting Enrico. Meanwhile, Ezio hogged as many courtesans as he could while Altair chatted with Claudia, no doubt about work.

Exhausted and head spinning from alcohol and the overdose of aroma, Desmond exited the brothel into the fresh cold air of the night. It hit him like a bucket of icy water and he closed his eyes to let his headache settle. When his eyes opened, he took a startled step back.

He didn't have anymore time to react. The Cento Occhi thief drove the knife into his stomach, right beneath his armor. The burning sensation exploded in his stomach like lava pouring into him. The ground came up quickly as he fell to his knees, not breathing, barely thinking. Instinctively, he turned his head towards Rosa in Fiore, looking for aid.

Through the crack left by the ajar door, he could see Ezio sloshing mead onto the chest of one of the courtesans, who giggled when he went to lap it up. Altair was giving the Italian a distasteful look while Claudia sighed and rolled her eyes at her brother's antics. He tried to call out, but no words came. Something heavy and hard slammed down on his head and he blacked out instantly.

* * *

The heat was miserable as he lay on top of what he believed to be a roof. Desmond couldn't move his body, except for his eyes, which perused the scene unfolding before him. There were Templars attacking Assassins everywhere. Though he was sure it was impossible, a part of him swore he was in Masyaf. The setting resembled the Assassin fortress all too well. Someone was moving through the forces with incredible skill, eliminating Templars with ease. It took a few blinks of trying to clear his vision for Desmond to finally identify the man as Altair. Immediately, he called for him, but the Syrian did not seem to notice him as he ran right past.

There was a flash of light and Desmond tried to shield his eyes from it. When it dissipated, he was leaned against a wall watching as Altair leaped from above to land on a heavily armored man, killing him nearly instantly. A few short words were exchanged and then Altair laid the man to rest. Desmond could see Al Mualim standing not too far away and the old man began to converse with the Assassin. It was then Desmond realized Altair was younger than when Desmond had first began to relive the Master Assassin's life, which meant the incident in Solomen's Temple had not yet happened.

He began to call out to the Assassin, wanting to warn him about his failure in the Temple and about Al Mualim's betrayal, but he could not be heard.

There was another flash of light and he choked on the surge of blood coming up into his throat.

* * *

"He's...hurt..."

"Get a medic in here!"

"There's...so...much...blood..."

"Get your act together, Miss Stillman!"

"But..."

"We'll try to stave the bleeding and see if we can't get him back in the Animus."

"But..."

"Give me your hand, Miss Stillman! Press it to the wound. There. Now, hold it. I'm going to get the Animus running again."

"But..."

"Just hold it."

"The medic, sir!"

"Try to tend to him while I start up the Animus."

"He needs to see a surgeon."

"He'll be fine."

"This is a serious wound, doctor..."

"And if you don't do something about it, he won't be fine, but he doesn't need to go to a hospital. Just close up the wound the best you can."

"I really think..."

"I really think you could lose your job if you don't start doing as I tell you."

"Y-yes, sir."

"I'm starting up the Animus, Miss Stillman. Return to your post."

"S-sir..."

Desmond could taste metal in his mouth and smell a heavy amount of salt. Visions were flashing across his mind from Templars and Assassins to Masyaf and Roma. His brain couldn't decide where it wanted him to be, but apparently anywhere except here was the plan.

"He's logging in."

"Good."

"I'm not finished with him!"

"I said he'll be fine!"

"He could die like this!"

"Your services are no longer required."

"But..."

"Take him out of here."

"You're going to kill him!"

"Well, that is the eventual plan, yes. Miss Stillman, progress."

"He's going in now."

"Very good."

Bright white light encompassed the blurry images, blocking them out, and Desmond fell down into the void.

* * *

"Desmond! Desmond!"

He could feel someone shaking him, but he couldn't open his eyes.

"Desmond!"

He tried as hard as he could to reach out and reassure them he was all right, but his body objected stubbornly. No matter how much he urged his mouth to open and say something, it remained sealed.

"DESMOND!"

The desperation of the voice sent him sitting up immediately and he groped wildly at the air, thanking whatever divinity cared about him when he latched onto familiar robes.

"Ezio..." He groaned into the heat of the Italian. "I...hurt...all...over..."

"You're fine." Ezio stated, though he sounded relieved. "You know, if you're going to ditch the party, you should really let us know."

Desmond's eyes opened slowly and he peered around his surroundings with only his eyes. He was in his bedroom at the hideout and the lack of concern in Ezio's voice proved he did not carry the massive wound he swore he should be suffering from.

"Desmond?"

"Yes?" The young Master basically whispered.

"I am a very loving man, but even I think this embrace has carried on a little bit too long."

"Oh..."

Desmond released the Italian and slumped back onto his bed, checking his side for the gaping hole he expected to find. There was nothing. He glanced down at his body only to find he was wearing the shirt and pants he normally wore to bed. Had it all been a dream?

"You seem worried." Ezio stated, standing and rubbing at the back of his head.

"I just had a really..._really_ realistic dream." Desmond decided not to tell the Italian the truth as he sat up and rubbed at his face. "How was last night?"

"You missed a good time." Ezio laughed, tossing Desmond a smile. "Of course, we didn't realize you were gone until this morning. Sorry."

Desmond shrugged. "It's all good. I'm glad you had fun. Did Altair have fun?"

"No idea." Ezio snorted. "I got wasted and laid. That's all that matters."

Desmond chuckled. "Good for you."

"And I see you came home hardly drunk and alone." Ezio gave Desmond a reprimanding look. "We need to find you your kind of brothel."

"No thank you." Desmond shook his head adamantly. "Besides, they'd all hit on you."

He swore Ezio turned slightly green at the idea.

"B-breakfast is made downstairs." Ezio headed for the door, deciding to end the conversation before it disgusted him further. "Whenever you're ready."

"Thanks."

Desmond waited for Ezio to leave before yanking up his shirt to stare at his side where the knife had plunged. His heart sunk at the sight of a long jagged poorly-healed scar marring his skin.

It hadn't been a dream.

* * *

Desmond leaned against the railing of Rosa in Fiore and stared out at the courtyard below. How much time had passed? It had been months since Ezio and Altair had left with the majority of the Brotherhood to attack the forces of Micheletto Corella, leaving Desmond to supervise Roma and the remaining recruits. It had already been two years since Cesare had lost his power, though he had escaped once, only to be captured again thanks to the Assassins.

A lot of other things had happened, leaving Desmond's head spinning. Raffaele had long since betrayed the Assassins and was currently working for the Templars, a fact which devastated and disheartened Desmond greatly. Enrico had been killed by a guard while trying to protect some courtesans. This had left Desmond feeling empty for months until Altair's harsh words forced him to snap back to reality. Luca had excelled exponentially, overshadowing all of the other Assassins, but Desmond attributed Luca's success to Altair's guidance. Claudia had been kidnapped by Borgia supporters, even though Cesare no longer held power. The three Masters had been able to rescue her, but the experience had pained her greatly. She gave up being the Madam of Rosa in Fiore, leaving the brothel in the hands of Rosa of the Venetian Thieves Guild, though she kept tabs on the brothel and still referred to the courtesans as 'her girls'. Desmond found she often even still worked there, if she was able. He spent a lot of time with her, getting to know her while without his Assassin companions. She was sweet to him, but it was clear she only saw him as a brother. This was fine by him since he felt like she was the sister he never had.

The year 1506 was just around the corner and Desmond felt like time was moving too quickly again.

* * *

"It's a new year, Maestro." Luca joined Desmond on the balcony the young Assassin frequently took up watch when he had nothing to do for the various factions throughout the city. "You should be celebrating."

"I can't find any joy in another year going by." Desmond sighed, feeling extremely old all of a sudden. "I wish time would just stop."

Luca put his hands to the balcony railing and stared out at the courtyard below.

"Life would be boring without time, I think." Luca mumbled, glancing at Desmond.

"Maybe..."

"You worry too much, Maestro."

"Perhaps..."

Luca exhaled and leaned against the railing so he was facing his Master.

"What troubles you aside from time?"

"Merely wondering what takes Ezio and Altair so long to return."

"You miss them?"

"Greatly."

Luca frowned slightly. "And you worry of Raffaele, no doubt."

Desmond's grimace darkened. "Lately, I do my best not to even think about it."

"My apologies."

"It is fine."

Luca watched his superior with sharp eyes and Desmond shifted nervously beneath the look.

"Is there something you wished to discuss?" Desmond asked when he couldn't handle the stare any longer.

"I was merely checking on you." Luca admitted. "And intended to drag you inside for alcohol and women."

Desmond flinched slightly. "I'm fine, thank you, Luca."

"Or maybe you'd prefer alcohol and men."

The young Master flicked a glance at the other Assassin and noticed instantly the serious look upon Luca's features. Over the past couple of years, not once had Luca brought up this topic, nor had he mentioned the night they possibly shared together. It was a dirty secret, which wasn't all that secret, but neither had wanted to discuss it for the awkwardness and uncertainty it provided.

"I'm not really interested in anyone's company right now." Desmond stated, his mouth abruptly dry.

"I'll leave then."

Luca turned to do as he said and Desmond groaned in annoyance.

"I did not mean it in that way." Desmond called the other Assassin back. "I was merely pointing out I have no interest in...anything remotely romantic."

Luca faced him, crossing his arms. Instantly, Desmond's body warmed at the dignified stance. Luca had a powerful look about him, intimidating and frustratingly wonderful in the eyes of Desmond.

"Then alcohol." Luca suggested, eyes piercing Desmond's. Had they been the fiery gold of Altair or Ezio, Desmond was sure he would melt beneath their intensity. "It would not kill you to enjoy the night."

Desmond did not want to relent.

"I'm honestly not in the mood..."

"What would put you in the mood?"

Desmond cringed slightly as his mind immediately went perverted.

"Luca," Desmond kept his voice level. "I believe it is best for me to abstain from alcohol and I would like to enjoy the quiet of the night, if you do not mind."

Luca nodded slowly. "As you wish, Maestro."

Without further word, Luca abandoned Desmond on the balcony to enjoy the comforts of Rosa in Fiore. Not long later, Claudia emerged to join Desmond in the night.

"I just saw Luca come back...alone." She stated, stopping beside Desmond. "Why do you not join your men in mirth?"

"The night is nice out."

"That is a lame excuse for abandoning your men." She gave him a stern look. "They need you to be strong for them, Desmond. Their Mentors are away and you have been left with them. Has it never crossed your mind they are accustomed to Ezio joining them in all their fun? Even Altair, who is by no means a social person, joins them at their celebrations. You, on the other hand, abandon them to mourn the loss of other Assassins."

"Is it wrong to mourn them?" Desmond snapped back bitterly.

"No." She touched his arm in a comforting manner. "But the time for mourning is past, Desmond. You must move on. You must carry on, if not for you than for your fellow Assassins."

Desmond closed his eyes, hating her words because they were true.

"Fine." He gave in, tired of resisting everyone at every turn. "I'll join the celebration, but I better not regret this."

"Well, I believe Luca is hoping you won't."

"What?" Desmond gave her a bewildered look.

"He was flirting with you, you dense blockhead."

He immediately blanked, unable to move or even think. This proved fine by Claudia as she lead him into the brothel while he remained stupefied. Soon, he was drinking and chatting with his fellow Assassins, though he noticed he was avoiding Luca intentionally.

It had been a long time since he had drank this heavily.

The room began to spin. The laughter and words began to blur together. The air was hot and stuffy and he could barely breathe. The night wore on like rust.

* * *

"Do you think he's alive?"

"I think so?"

"You don't sound so sure."

"Should we wake him or shouldn't we, Ezio?"

Desmond sat up instantly at the name of the Italian, but collapsed back down at the raging headache, which came with him.

"Don't know when to stop drinking do you?" Ezio laughed lightly. "How was the party? You seem to have had fun."

"Ugh..." Desmond moaned, shielding his eyes from the bright light around him. "When did you two get back?"

"Today, clearly." Ezio replied, grinning down at the young Master. "Do you need help?"

"Water." Desmond begged and listened as the two Mentors snickered at him. "Assholes..."

"I saw Luca." Altair suddenly stated, causing Desmond to remove his arm so he could look at the Syrian. "He seemed happy."

"Huh?" Desmond stared at the other Assassin in confusion.

Altair's brow rose. "You don't remember anything about last night, do you?"

"I have a feeling I don't want to know."

"Well," Ezio said as he returned, helping Desmond sit up to drink some water. "You better not let Luca know you don't remember."

"That's a terrible suggestion." Altair scoffed. "That should be the first thing he does."

"Oh, shit..." Desmond suddenly realized what they were talking about. "Luca is going to kill me."

"Oh, come on." Ezio chuckled. "This sort of thing happens all of the time."

"Luca doesn't like men, Ezio..." Desmond rubbed at his face, wishing he could rewind back to before this mess all began.

"You're right: he doesn't." Altair stated, making Desmond's stomach churn. "But he likes you."

Desmond's eyes met those of the Syrian, confused and a little bit terrified. "What?"

"It will have to be something you discuss with him." Altair told Desmond, smiling. "In the meantime, Ezio and I are going to visit Leonardo."

"I'll go with you." Desmond insisted, grappling onto the Syrian for assistance in standing.

"This sounds like a bad idea." Ezio helped straighten Desmond out. "Just promise me when we get back, you'll talk to Luca."

Desmond shuddered slightly. "Uh...sure..."

"Don't be a stronzo." Ezio gave Desmond a glare. "Two years..._two years_...and you finally get laid by a guy you like. You better not screw this up. I'll be pissed."

Desmond scowled. "How was the battle against Micheletto Corella?"

"Don't change the topic." Ezio said and in the same breath added, "It went well, obviously."

"I didn't think it was all that obvious."

He groaned when Ezio hit him lightly on the head.

"Ow..."

"You big baby."

"Let's go." Altair encouraged. "We have a ship we much catch soon."

"What?" Desmond gaped at the Syrian. "You two are leaving already?"

"We intend to leave for Masyaf." Ezio said. "Well, if we can ever get out of Italy. It seems I am stopped constantly by one thing or another."

"Why do you want to go to Masyaf?"

"Sentimental reasons for me." Altair explained. "Since I hear the fortress is abandoned. Ezio would like to investigate this library of mine and I am quite curious about it myself. Furthermore, we would like to see how the Assassins fair in the area."

"All legit reasons to go." Desmond agreed. "Only I am going with you."

"Someone needs to stay and..."

Desmond interrupted Ezio. "I am tired of being left behind. I would like to accompany you. I _need_ to accompany you."

Ezio frowned, but agreed. "I am sure my sister would not mind looking after our brothers. Very well, we will visit her after Leonardo."

"Maestri."

Desmond's head perked and he locked gazes with Luca, whom smiled the moment their eyes met.

"Good morning." Luca greeted and Desmond nodded lamely in return. "Did you sleep well, Maestro?"

Altair and Ezio awkwardly excused themselves, leaving Desmond with Luca.

"You don't remember anything, do you?" Luca smiled at Desmond and the young Master was glad to see no anger was in the man's eyes.

"I don't, honestly." He admitted, watching closely to see how Luca took this confirmation.

Luca seemed to handle it fine.

"Well, we'll just have to try again with less alcohol." Luca suggested.

Desmond swallowed. "I thought...you didn't like..."

"You're a special case." Luca replied, eyes searching Desmond's. "If that is all right with you."

"It's...great." Desmond couldn't think of a better response.

"The Mentori await you." Luca stepped forward to fix Desmond's cape, leaning in press his lips against Desmond's cheek in the process. "La sicurezza e la pace, Maestro."

Desmond couldn't stop himself as he took the Assassin's face in his hands and planted a kiss on the man's lips. Luca smiled into the kiss and returned it. Though it was brief, Desmond felt significantly better for it.

"La sicurezza e la pace, fratello." Desmond grinned before leaving Luca.

He entered the main room of the hideout where Altair and Ezio were waiting for him.

"Ready?" He asked, knowing he sounded incredibly chipper for being hungover.

"Yes." The two Assassins said in slightly sardonic tones as they gave him knowing looks.

Desmond ignored them as he exited the hideout feeling better than he had in months.

* * *

Desmond didn't realize until after the three arrived at Leonardo's that he hadn't told Luca he was planning on going to Masyaf that same day, meaning they wouldn't get to try again. It was almost enough of a encouragement for Desmond to stay, but he kept trying to convince himself it was better for him to accompany his ancestors. He thought about suggesting they stay at least one more day, so he could talk to Luca, have some fun, and say a proper goodbye. He wouldn't let them know this was his reasoning, though he was sure they would guess. On the other hand, though he felt just going was the right way of doing it because a prolonged goodbye could be enough to convince him to stay.

He was rather confused while Leonardo and Ezio conversed, ignoring most everything they were saying.

"Bene." Ezio suddenly said and the way he said it alerted Desmond to a possible mission. "An easy task."

"Wait, what are you doing?" Desmond asked, pretending to have been preoccupied with studying a painting in progress.

"I am going to get his assistant so he can accompany me to the docks." Ezio explained.

"Let me go." Desmond suggested. "Than you and Leonardo can catch up on what you two have been up to."

"I like this plan." Leonardo encouraged. "Salai is probably at La Volpe Addormentata, likely gambling."

"I will accompany you." Altair said, approaching Desmond. "I wouldn't mind checking up on the Thieves' Guild while I am there."

"Fair."

Desmond and Altair parted ways with Ezio and Leonardo and headed off towards La Volpe Addormentata.

"How was the journey?" Desmond asked along the way.

"It was fine." Altair replied casually. "The battle went well. We...hid the Apple."

"You did?" Desmond asked, surprised, but then instantly relieved. "That's good. Don't tell me where it is...I don't want to know."

"I often wonder if maybe you should know." Altair stated. "For the Assassins."

"If I was with the Assassins, I wouldn't mind knowing, but I'm pretty sure I'm not. I am pretty sure the Templars have me and that they...know what I am doing here."

"That must be...embarrassing."

"Why would it be embarrassing?"

"Well, they may know exactly what you do here. For us. For yourself...for Luca."

Red instantly rushed up to Desmond's face and he groaned. "Thanks, Altair. I was perfectly happy not thinking of that as a possibility."

"You're welcome."

"You're sounding more and more like Ezio."

"Don't insult me." Altair scowled. "But speaking of being like Ezio, you could almost be his twin for how much you look like him now. It bothered him the moment he saw you, knowing you had been with Luca. Furthermore, it gave Luca a sort of...a bit of confusion. He saw Ezio before he saw me and I think he thought for a second Ezio was you. It was quite amusing...for me."

Desmond shook his head. "I don't look that much like him do I?"

"Long hair in a ponytail, scruff, and identical scar. You look incredibly like him, Dezmund. The fact the two of you have similar taste in clothes does not help."

"Er...I see your point." Desmond sighed as he got off of his horse.

They entered the Thieves' Guild and were greeted almost immediately by La Volpe. As if to prove Altair's point, La Volpe's welcomed the two as Altair and Ezio.

"I see you've returned from your trip." La Volpe patted Desmond's shoulder. "How did it fair? I know you were successful."

"It was well." Altair answered before Desmond could correct La Volpe. "Though we have just returned."

Awkwardness settled over Desmond as he realized it would be embarrassing now to La Volpe to correct him.

"Have you visited Desmond?" La Volpe asked and Desmond didn't miss the concern. "He could use a good visit."

"Why do you say this?" Altair questioned.

"He has fallen into himself." La Volpe sighed, shaking his head remorsefully. "Losing two of his recruits by one means or another and then being alone...he misses you both greatly. I believe he sees no other as his friends. Though the rest of us, Niccolo, Bartolomeo, Claudia, and myself, try our hardest to reach out to him, he rejects our offers of help and companionship. His trust seems reserved for you both."

"He is still young." Altair stated.

"He is not as young as you once believed." La Volpe corrected. "He was a boy when I first met him, but he is a man now...if a lonely man. I have seen him grow and prosper beneath your hands. His training has progressed significantly. I have seen him in action. I would not be able to discern him from either of you, most of all you, Ezio. He takes an uncanny resemblance."

The urge to laugh was just in Desmond's throat, but the seriousness of the conversation kept the sound at bay.

"You are awfully quiet, my friend." La Volpe gave Desmond a concerned look.

"I am merely worried." Desmond replied and watched as La Volpe accepted this answer.

"What brings you here, my friends?"

"We are actually here at the bequest of Leonardo." Desmond informed the man. "To collect his assistant."

"Ah, him." La Volpe scowled. "On most days and nights, the fool brings us in plenty of money, but today he seems to have found his luck...or dice."

"We will rid him of you then." Desmond turned towards the gambling group and immediately spotted an elated Salai.

"Please, do." La Volpe encouraged before dismissing himself to tend to the affairs of the Thieves.

"Gian Giacomo?" Desmond stated as he approached the group of gamblers.

Salai's entire body portrayed annoyance. "I do not answer to that name."

Desmond stared at the youth with slight irritation. "Salai."

"Better." Salai kept his focus on the game. "But not good enough. YES! Again!"

"Leonardo, your master, requests your presence." Desmond tried, hoping the assistant would fall to Leonardo's wishes.

He was nearly instantly enraged at the sneered response of "Let him wait."

Desmond stepped on the dice Salai was reaching for. "No."

Slowly, Salai stood, eyes perusing Desmond's body like a cat eying its prey. He felt instantly on guard and significantly disgusted because he knew this youth was Leonardo's lover.

"Nice hood." Salai complimented. "Are you one of Julius's monks?"

"My church is not of God." Desmond replied and realized with sudden horror how much he really did sound like Ezio.

Altair smiled from where he stood only a few feet away.

"Outside the kingdom of God is the realm of men." Salai's eyes betrayed his interest as they flicked down to Desmond's groin. "You worship there. Messere?"

For a moment, he contemplated teaching the youth his place, showing him Desmond was not some perverted easy lay, but then he changed his mind. It wasn't in his personality to be outright cruel and vindictive, even if the recipient of such actions deserved it. He decided it would be easiest to convince Salai to return to Leonardo if he gave him an incentive.

"Come with me and find out." Desmond suggested, turning to leave, Altair joining him.

Behind them they could hear Salai scraping up his winnings and dismissing himself from the game.

"Uncannily like Ezio." Altair whispered into Desmond's ear.

The young Master frowned, not sure if he should be pleased or upset how much he now resembled the Italian.

* * *

Desmond yanked his sword from the chest of the cloaked figure and flicked it to remove some of the blood.

"We have to get to Leonardo's shop." Desmond stated, sheathing the weapon.

"Such skill from the both of you." Salai approached the Assassins. "You must be the Syrian named Altair and you must be Ezio Auditore."

"We must hurry." Altair encouraged.

"Neither of you talk much, do you?" Salai was irritated, but he gave in quickly enough. "Fine. I will run ahead. You can catch up."

As the assistant took off, Altair grabbed Desmond's shoulder. "Thank the divine we do not have to stick with him."

"To the horses." Desmond started for his mount. "We should get back to Leonardo and Ezio immediately."

"I am sure Ezio will keep the two of them safe." Altair said as he mounted his white steed.

"I am not as sure."

He spurred his horse forward and the two Assassins took off at a gallop back towards the shop. It didn't take long for cloaked men on horseback to give chase.

"Did you not know of these men throughout the city?" The accusation in Altair's tone made Desmond cringed.

"I had received word of an increase in their numbers." Desmond informed the Mentor. "But they were doing nothing suspicious. We suspected they were a cult of some kind, but since they were nonviolent..."

"They are clearly violent."

"Well, _now_ they are." Desmond cursed to himself. "I will let the Brotherhood know to keep an eye out for them, but only after we ensure Ezio's safety."

"Agreed."

They rode on, finally coming across Salai, whom had stopped due to the hooded figures roaming the city's streets.

"These strangers do not quit." Salai stated.

"They likely seek an object we once possessed." Altair informed the youth.

"You mean, the Piece of Eden?" Salai said, suddenly incredibly interested.

"_Leonardo told you?_" Altair and Desmond growled in unison.

"He tells me everything." Salai almost laughed, clearly enthused by this adventure he was taking part in and that he knew things he probably shouldn't.

"We must warn him." Desmond ground out. "His indiscretion seems to have cost us."

"Say no more." Salai held up his hand. "I know the best route home. I take it every morning after the taverns close. Follow me."

"Leonardo must _love_ you." Desmond snarled sarcastically.

"He does, doesn't he?" Salai stated proudly, making Desmond want to hit the youth.

"You should return said love a little stronger." Desmond grumbled as he and Altair began to follow the young man.

"He knows I love him."

"He _must_." Altair hissed, mirroring Desmond's disgust.

They rushed over the rooftops and through side alleyways, avoiding the hooded figures as best they could. Meanwhile, Desmond interrogated the young man, growing more and more agitated with the way Salai didn't seem to care about Leonardo, whom Desmond was sure dedicated his entire existence to. They learned Leonardo had been researching the location of a temple and, once he had found it, began to research the temple itself.

The moment they arrived at the shop, they knew something was wrong.

"Leonardo!" Salai called the moment he got into the building. "Maestro!"

"It looks like a bomb went off in here." Desmond commented, peering around worriedly for any signs of Ezio. His own words caused him panic. "Altair! Someone threw a bomb in here!"

Altair came to Desmond's side and they stared in horror at the blackened spot on the floor. Papers and painting utensils were scattered about and there was a clear sign of struggle. Blood was splattered on one of the walls.

"EZIO!" Desmond called, peering around almost foolishly for the man. "EZIO!"

"I thought you were Ezio?" Salai questioned, coming out of the adjoining room.

"He's Desmond." Altair corrected.

"Leonardo is not here." Salai said and the worry on his face was surprisingly genuine. "He...he must have left."

"They took him." Altair stated in a stern tone.

"No..." Salai seemed to be entering a panic. "He's just...gone to the market or..."

"The temple he discovered." Altair insisted. "Where is it?"

Salai turned away, hands rushing over his features. "Leonardo!"

"Salai!" Altair approached the frantic youth. "If you want to save him tell us where the temple is."

"I...I do not know." Salai replied and Desmond felt instantly sick to his stomach.

"_Cazzo_." The two Assassins cursed in unison.

Salai sank into a seat, physically exhausted from the emotional strain.

For a moment, they remained silent, each thinking of how to solve their latest dilemma.

"Ezio..." Salai began and then corrected. "D-Desmond, I mean...there is something written on the floor."

The two Assassins approached immediately to inspect the hasty writing.

"Villa. Paintings." Desmond read. "What the?"

"He wants us to examine art?" Altair muttered disdainfully.

"I remember when Leonardo lived at the Auditore Villa, he was researching the location of the catacombs." Salai explained to them.

"Several of his paintings hung in the gallery there." Desmond recalled working alongside Ezio in buying the paintings for the Villa while Desmond had been in the Animus. "What do they have to do with the temple?"

"Perhaps the pages of his research are hidden in one of the frames." Salai shrugged helplessly.

"The paintings are gone." Desmond shook his head. "They all burned in the attack."

"No, they did not." Salai corrected. "Only Leda and St. John, the Borgia took the rest."

"Six paintings." Altair, having followed Desmond during his time in the Animus, knew as much about the paintings as Desmond did.

"Five." Salai dropped his head in shame. "I told the art merchant that Portrait of a Lady was by Leonardo. I needed the money for a doublet. Of course, now it has gone out of fashion."

Desmond felt another urge to smack the youth over the head.

"Who has the paintings now?" Altair questioned.

"Lucrezia Borgia," Salai's answer made sense to Desmond, who crossed his arms. "In her husband's palazzo outside Ferrara."

"We will take back what was stolen." Altair turned and Desmond was quick to follow.

"Do you really think we can do this?" Desmond asked he followed Altair out of the shop.

"Yes." Altair stated with conviction. "We have done harder things."

"We are going off of assumptions."

"We have little choice in the matter."

"Do you think...do you think Ezio..."

"If he was dead, they would have abandoned his body there." Altair gave Desmond a serious look. "Come. We must tell the Brotherhood of these hooded figures, so they can help us keep the streets clean."

"Yes." Desmond nodded, eager to return to the hideout. "And then we will go pay a visit to Lucrezia."

"I did not much care for her." Altair smiled slightly. "It will be interesting to see how she now fairs without her brother and father."

"You're slightly evil."

"Perhaps..." Altair sighed. "I believe Ezio is rubbing off on me."

"The horror."

"The horror." Altair agreed.

* * *

Desmond lay in Ezio's bed, wishing he was already on the road. Altair had decided it was best they not tell the others of Ezio's disappearance, not wishing to dishearten the other Assassins and their allies, thus Desmond was playacting as the Italian, much to his dismay. He had wanted to discuss things with Luca, since tonight they rested before their journey to Lucrezia's palazzo, but pretending to be Ezio ensured he did not get the chance. While he lay there, he knew Altair traversed the city, informing the mercenaries, thieves, and courtesans to keep an eye out for the hooded figures and any activity they may be partaking in.

A knock sounded on his door and he sat up, granting permission to whomever stood outside his door. His stomach squirmed when Luca entered the room.

"I apologize deeply for bothering you so late, Mentore." The Assassin bowed lowly to Desmond in a show of fealty he was unaccustomed to. "But I cannot wait until morning to ask you this."

"Speak." Desmond motioned for the other Assassin to continue.

"I was wondering what became of Desmond." Luca cut straight to the point. "I know he left with you and I was wondering where he is."

"He..." Desmond wasn't sure how to go about lying to the man he had just claimed as a lover. His entire body felt wrong not telling Luca the truth. "He is running business for Altair and I. He will also accompany us on our next mission."

Luca nodded slowly, eyes downcast. "He will not return tonight?"

"No." Desmond swallowed hard. "He will not return tonight, I do not believe."

"I am sorry for bothering you, Mentore." Luca bowed again, lower than before. "Rest well."

"Safety and peace, brother." Desmond told him and watched as the Assassin's eyes met his own.

"Safety and peace to you as well, Mentore."

There was a long moment where Luca stared directly at Desmond's eyes, unnerving him a little for how much they scrutinized him. During this moment, he wondered if the Assassin suspected the truth, but then it was over and Luca had left.

Flopping back on his bed, Desmond seriously considered shaving.

* * *

Desmond awoke in the dead of night to someone caressing his skin. He immediately reached for his sword leaned against his nightstand, but he was pinned harshly to the bed.

"Relax, Desmond."

He froze at the sound of Luca's voice and raised his wide eyes to the Assassin's hooded features.

"I-it's Ezio..."

"Do not lie." Luca did not sound angry, but his eyes were cold when they met Desmond's.

"How?" Desmond croaked, amazed Luca had been able to tell them apart.

"Your cheeks." Luca replied, running a finger along Desmond's cheek, tickling the scruff there. "Ezio's are scarred."

Desmond had forgotten how Ezio had scarred his cheeks with his own fingernails when last they had been in the Animus together. He cringed slightly at the memory.

"Why lie?" Luca asked, watching Desmond like a hawk.

"It was Altair's idea." Desmond grumbled, putting a hand over his face in embarrassment and frustration. "He...well, it's complicated."

"It is not so complicated."

"Ezio has been kidnapped by the hooded men." Desmond's words caused Luca to tense. "We did not wish to dishearten the young recruits and Altair felt it was best to pretend I was Ezio. La Volpe had already mistook me for him, so we thought it would be believable."

"It is..." Luca hesitated. "If only because Altair accompanies you. Had you come alone, none would have guessed you were Ezio."

"I figured as much."

Luca sighed heavily as he got off of Desmond to sit alongside him. Desmond sat up, watching Luca with concern.

"I was worried." Luca whispered, playing with the edge of his robes. "When I realized it was you, not Ezio, I was concerned you...it is foolish thinking of course, but..."

"I wanted so badly to tell you." Desmond insisted, putting a hand on Luca's shoulder. "I wanted you to know it was me. I didn't want to lie to you."

"Can you not trust us?" Luca asked abruptly, facing Desmond. "Can you not trust us to be strong without Ezio? Are we so weak in your eyes?"

"We need everyone focused." Desmond explained hastily. "It is not a matter of trust. We are looking out for your best interests."

"Really?" Luca sounded doubtful.

Desmond gently removed Luca's hood, so he could better discern Luca's emotions. "Really, Luca. We are the ones who worry too much and become disheartened too easily. Me most especially. Sometimes, we assume you are all like us."

"You carry heavier burdens. It is only natural for your to be more worried and more easily disheartened."

"It is not right for us to be."

Luca smiled slightly. "You will always worry too much and think too long and hard on things you cannot change, Desmond. It is who you are. While you are a good Master, I fear it will be many years before you can make a good Mentor."

Desmond scoffed. "You flatter me by believing I can even be a good Mentor...or even be a Mentor at all!"

Luca grinned brighter. "You are right. I believe it will be I who takes up the mantel before you."

"I can see that." Desmond sighed, a little discouraged by this possibility.

Luca laughed softly, grabbing Desmond's hand. "See? So easily disheartened."

Desmond gave a weak smile to the other Assassin. "Well, I am all right with where I am."

"If you were, you would not be so unhappy about it."

"I am happy."

"Are you?"

Desmond placed his hand behind Luca's head, letting his fingers run up into the man's shortly cropped hair. "Yes. I am."

Luca's eyes portrayed his intentions before he leaned in to kiss his superior.

The night had turned out much better than Desmond had anticipated.

* * *

"You hardly slept." Altair growled as the two Assassins set out on horseback. "You have dark circles under your eyes."

"Shut up." Desmond snapped back and then smiled. "I had fun."

"You told Luca, didn't you?" Altair scowled at the other.

"He figured it out on his own and I didn't bother keeping up the act." Desmond recalled how the night had turned out. "And I don't regret it."

"You're as much a lech as Ezio."

"I am only after one, while Ezio seeks many."

"You make a fair point." Altair encouraged his horse into a slow lope. "Come. We must make haste."

Desmond agreed and the two galloped off towards Ferrare.

* * *

"Well, this was easy." Desmond muttered as Altair opened the window to the palazzo after they had gone through the maze of stables and gardens to reach the place.

Lucrezia was inside, as they had anticipated, wearing a slutty red dress and having her hair up to better accent her neck and shoulders. Desmond wasn't all too surprised he found her attractive. She had a rather Lucy-like appearance had Lucy been a seductress instead of a Templar traitor to the Assassins and Lucrezia screamed sex appeal, if not for her rather paranoid phobia of being assassinated. Considering they had just infiltrated her well-guarded home, Desmond understood her fear a bit.

"Come to kill me at last, Assassini?" She asked without even looking up from the book she was reading as Desmond and Altair approached her.

"Good day, Lucrezia." Altair said, though Desmond knew he did not mean the words. "Or should I say Duchess?"

This got an immediate reaction from her.

She turned, her voice coming out in a disgusted snarl. "A borrowed title bestowed by my husband, ill-fitting and barely concealing the truth."

"Barely concealing the truth, yes." Altair agreed. "Ill-fitting? No. You have the perfect pompous, lecherous, and vile personality befitting a Duchess."

"You..." She growled, eyes narrowing.

Desmond cut in. "You can keep your life. We are here for the art on your walls."

"Redecorating, are we, Ezio?"

"There are five Leonardo Da Vinci paintings you have stolen." Desmond stated. "Return them."

She laughed at him. "If only it were that easy. My birthplace, my family, have been taken from me. You think Ferrara loves me? I am a stranger, a castaway, an orphan. Your paintings are gone, Assassino."

"I do not believe you." Desmond said, realizing he had little choice in the matter. The only way to win against Lucrezia was with sex. He approached her, closing in on her. Altair watched with narrowing eyes.

"Frightening, is it not?" She fluttered her eyelashes, seeming to like the way Desmond approached her. "To have lost so much?"

Gently she ran her hand over the robes covering his chest, in particular the strap running across it.

Her eyes flicked downwards over his body before rushing up to meet his own.

"Perhaps we can comfort each other."

"Perhaps." Desmond replied, flicking off his hood.

Altair scoffed, turning to wander over to the other side of the room.

"Where are the paintings?" Desmond asked as he put his hands on Lucrezia's sides and moved her closer to the wall behind her.

Her eyes met his and he knew she did not lie as she told him the locations of the paintings. He let his mouth drop down to her neck to caress it. Perfume burned his nostrils, but he ignored it as his lips ran along the flawless skin.

"I kept one..." She gasped against the feel of his hands running along her back. "For myself."

"Give it to me." Desmond encouraged into her ear, letting his breath tickle the loose strands of hair there as his bottom lip brushed the shell of her ear.

She carefully pushed him away and called out to the guards awaiting outside the door. On the other side of the room, Altair tensed when the doors opened and two guards entered.

"Place Da Vinci's Annunciation in a cart." Lucrezia ordered of them. "Leave it outside the walls."

Desmond exchanged a meaningful glance with Altair and the Syrian acknowledged it with a slight nod of his head. As soon as the guards had left, Altair slipped out the window while Desmond returned his attention to Lucrezia.

"Thank you." Desmond pulled Lucrezia towards the wall again and pinned her to the curtain there. "Close your eyes, la mia bella cara."

She obeyed so willingly, her desire for affection too obvious. He kept up the act, letting his mouth wander over her neck while his wrapped his arms around her.

"My husband will soon arrive with his guards, so it is best if you...mmm...hurry." She whispered into his ear.

"Forgive me, Duchess." Desmond pulled away, having finished what he had set out to do.

"What for?" She asked, completely enraptured by him.

"No man can heal your pain." He told her, placing his hands on her upper arms. "You must do so on your own."

He stepped away, watching her face grow confused and slightly terrified.

"Say hello for the Duke for me." He smiled as her eyes grew wider and wider with each step he took away.

It was then she realized she was tied to the curtains and began to fight against the bonds.

"GUARDS!" She screamed. "GUARDS!"

Desmond immediately started running as the doors flew open. He tried not to laugh, knowing he needed all the air he could in order to escape, but the sound filled the air regardless.

It felt good to be doing missions again.

He met Altair outside of the Palazzo and immediately mounted his horse to ride away.

"Did you have fun?" Altair sneered.

"I was successful in getting the painting." Desmond told the Syrian then added with worry. "Don't tell Luca. It wasn't...like that...at all..."

"She's an attractive woman." Altair stated. "I would not be surprised if you..."

"No..." Desmond shook his head. "She is vile and...reminds me of Lucy in a way...no...I don't care for her in the least."

"Attraction is very different from love."

"I know." Desmond stated. "And I am not attracted to her."

Altair shrugged. "Then you put on an amazing show."

"Stronzo." Desmond muttered before asking, "You aren't going to tell Luca, right?"

"Of course not." Altair gave Desmond a disgusted look. "You really think so lowly of me?"

"No, I just...I don't know."

"You've taken a lot of advice from Ezio." Altair reassured Desmond. "You are an incredible Assassin for it, if not like the Assassins from my time."

Desmond smiled. "You could pay attention to his lessons a little yourself, Altair."

"Perhaps..." Altair frowned slightly. "I simply keep hoping I will return to my...time..."

The forlorn and lonely look entering Altair's eyes reminded Desmond how it had been years since the Assassin had last seen his wife and son. He wondered how much Altair worried over it. Did he worry all these years would have transpired in his own time? That when he returned his wife and son will have aged and he would have missed all those years with them? Did he worry too about the troubles the Apple may have caused Malik and the other Assassins?

"You will go home, I am sure of it." Desmond told his friend. "And I am sure no time will have passed."

Altair nodded, but such certainty was not in his eyes.


	6. Resurgit Vita

Chapter Six: _Resurgit Vita_

Their next mission found them in the Vatican district, tailing a man leading a hooded figure. The entire district was swarming with hooded figures and moving around was nearly impossible. If it was not for the aid of their followers, Desmond was not sure if they would have been successful. The man was killed by the hooded figure and the painting given to another man, sent off to study the picture. Altair managed to assassinate the man and steal the painting from him before suggesting they rest at the hideout, for which Desmond was grateful.

It didn't take long to figure out something was wrong the moment the got onto Tiber Island.

Rushing through the packed streets, Desmond shoved through the crowds and then froze at the sight before him.

The hideout was caved in on itself, smoke and flames rising from the ruins. He rushed forward, down the blackened steps to assist recruits struggling to get out of the rubble. He pulled one young man out, blood sputtering from his lips and encouraged the Assassin with him to stay by his side while Desmond returned to the effort. Altair was lifting up beams, so those trapped beneath could free themselves. All around young men and women were struggling to escape. One was beating away the fire engulfing her friend's back. Another held onto the stump where his leg had once been, screaming and crying while he did. He tried to get deeper into the ruins, but the fire and the unsteady beams wouldn't let him.

"There is nothing more we can do." Altair grabbed Desmond's arm to pull him away.

"But there could still be men trapped inside." Desmond frowned before heading towards the water. "I'm going up through the sewers."

"Don't be an idiot!"

"I have to make sure there is nothing more I can do."

He slid into the water and swam into the cave leading into the sewers before making his way to the hideout entrance. Two young women were sitting there beneath it, deeply wounded. After encouraging them to take the sewers to Rosa in Fiore, he opened up the hatch. Fire and smoke erupted in front of him and he dodged it the best he could, though he ended up patting away the flames on his shoulder. As soon as the fire died down, he crawled up into the hideout and peered around the mess. Stones had collapsed everywhere and fire burned everything it could get its tongues onto. He cautiously made his way into the hideout, well aware it could collapse on top of him at any moment. He wasn't able to go far as the ruined building prevented him, but it was far enough to drag another recruit to safety.

Once back on the main road, Desmond began to help Altair get the greatly wounded to doctors and the rest to either the Barracks, La Volpe Addormentata, or Rosa in Fiore. The effort took the rest of the day and half the night to complete. Meanwhile, he took tabs on those who had survived while trying to figure out what had happened.

"I heard the door open." Beatrice told him. "And running. I thought maybe one of the recruits had news of importance when I saw someone not in our robes. They tossed down something and then ran back up. They were hooded."

"One of them then." Desmond growled, figuring it was those whom had kidnapped Leonardo and Ezio, but further information quickly changed his mind.

"It was Raffaele." Augusto stated. "I was on the roof when I saw a man running from the hideout. I recognized him after a moment when his hood accidentally came off while fleeing. I aimed to shoot him, but then...the building trembled as there was a loud bang. It collapsed shortly afterwards amid the explosions."

Altair sighed exhaustively. "He has truly fully betrayed us and he knows where our locations are. We will need to change them."

"He will recognize our symbol." Desmond argued, going over the list of survivors. "He will...will...w-where's Luca?"

His eyes flicked up to Altair and the Syrian pulled out his piece of paper to go over the list of names. "Wasn't he with us on our mission?"

"I requested he go to La Volpe Addormentata to update the Thieves on our progress." Desmond stood, skin suddenly clammy. "He was to return to the hideout as soon as he was done."

"I'm sure he's fine." Altair stated. "Travel between the Thieves' Guild and the hideout is a long journey."

"I'm going to speak to La Volpe."

"It is late." Altair argued.

"I'm going."

The Syrian sighed. "I will accompany you..."

"No. Go to the Barracks and ensure he isn't there."

Desmond gave a nod to Rosa before leaving the brothel and heading for the nearest entrance to the sewers.

* * *

"I have not seen him, Desmond." La Volpe shook his head. "Not since he came to inform me of your progress. That was earlier in the day...you do not believe he was involved in the..."

"I have to meet with Altair."

Desmond turned to check on his recruits and wounded Assassins before leaving the inn and reentering the sewers. His heart was racing. His skin was prickling. His entire body ached with fear.

He reached the Barracks, nearly running into Altair as he entered the building.

"Luca?" He asked, knowing his voice sounded frantic.

Altair looked down.

"Dezmund..." His deep tone frightened Desmond. "He has been found."

"Found?" Desmond barely whispered the word.

"I am sorry, brother."

He was dreaming. Desmond was sure he was dreaming. He turned slowly to leave the Barracks.

"Where was he found?" He asked, his voice sounding distant to his ears.

"Dezmund..."

"Where?" He tried to snap, but croaked instead.

"Dezmund..."

He felt Altair's hands on his upper arms and the shock finally hit him. He gasped for breath, not realizing he hadn't been breathing, and the sobs came out hoarsely from his throat. Altair embraced him, trying to comfort him, but Desmond was already in hysterics. He latched onto the Syrian, head spinning and everything feeling warm and cold all at once.

He cried for the rest of the night.

* * *

It was a true test of character the following day when Desmond rose from sleeping to inspect his wounded followers. He wasn't sure if it was because he had matured over the past couple of years or grown too cold to let sorrow dwell within him for too long. After ensuring everyone was being cared for, he sent a letter to Niccolo Machiavelli to inform him of the incident and the desperate need for a new headquarters. Then he and Altair resumed their search for the paintings.

"Dezmund..." Altair began after an extended period of silence. "Brother, what are you...thinking?"

"If you're trying to see if I am all right, if I am still suffering, if I will be able to retain my focus," Desmond replied in a stony voice. "Then understand we will complete this mission without my emotions being in the way."

Altair stopped him. "Closing in on yourself will not..."

"What do you want me to do, Altair?" Desmond shouted back, drawing the attention of several passersby. "He is dead! I am not Jesus! I cannot raise the dead nor can I do anything about how I feel! We need to rescue our friends! I will not let them meet the same fate!"

Altair nodded slowly. "Very well, brother. Lead on."

They did not speak again as they went to the house of a merchant, whose wife answered to inform them they had sold the paintings.

Getting down to the docks, they were met by a man Desmond barely managed to recognize in time.

"Ezio Auditore." The man, who had once been Claudia's betrothed, said as he turned away from the woman he was talking to, only to return his attention to her briefly. "Come back down to the harbor when I return to Roma and I will show you the inside of my ship."

She giggled before leaving as the man approached Desmond and Altair.

"Living in this third-rate city, instead of beautiful Firenze?" Duccio de Luca taunted. "How low you have sunk."

"Duccio." Desmond stated in a warning tone, easily taking on the role of Ezio. "We are not children anymore."

"Look around." Duccio waved at the brutish men near to him. "I have help this time. And you have what? A clown wanting to dress just like you?"

Altair stiffened, having already thought the outfits of the Italian Assassins were ridiculous.

"Wanting to be like you?" Duccio laughed. "Who would? Unless this is your lover. That would make sense."

"I am warning you..." Desmond growled.

"Oh, we are only talking, are we not?" Duccio feigned innocent as he approached Desmond. "I see this place has worked its magic on your sister. She did not want to open her legs in Firenze, but now she is the Madame of Roma."

Desmond's fist made contact with Duccio's face before he'd even thought about the action. A fight broke out instantly, Duccio cowering behind his men and forcing Desmond and Altair to beat up several brutes before trying to land a blow on the slippery snake of a man. Finally, they had beaten him into enough of a submission to get answers.

"You are going to shut your mouth and give me what I want." Desmond hoisted the man up. "The three Da Vinci paintings."

"One is on the boat." Duccio fessed. "The other two were sold to a cardinal. He is displaying them for high ranking members of the Church."

"How do I get in?" Desmond snarled.

"How should I know?" Duccio swallowed down what fear he had and spat, "Go ask your _whore_ of a sister. I am sure she has slept with a couple of cardinals."

Desmond punched the man again, harder than he had ever punched someone before, and turned to see where Altair had gone. He wasn't too surprised to see the Syrian was already on the boat and was successfully acquiring the painting without even being detected.

A few minutes later found them sitting on a roof while Altair inspected Desmond's hand, the skin on the knuckles having split open on Duccio's face.

"You hit hard." Altair complimented. "Though at a great cost to yourself."

"It's just Duccio's skull is thick which is why nothing gets into it."

Altair chuckled lightly, but his eyes betrayed his worry.

"I'm fine, Altair." Desmond sighed.

"I am not as sure, brother."

Desmond swallowed the lump forming in his throat. "I will be fine."

"Better." Altair finished applying the salve to Desmond's wounds and helped him get his glove back on. "To Rosa in Fiore then."

"I think I will skip out on that one." Desmond mumbled. "You can go, right?"

Altair nodded. "Where shall I meet you when I am done?"

"In front of the Pantheon." Desmond stated. "I'll meet you there."

"Safety and peace, brother."

"To you as well."

Desmond was glad for the time he could now spend alone. Though he was left with his thoughts, he was able to think about how he felt and what he intended to do now that he was lonely again. Revenge came forthright to his mind and a nearly insatiable desire to cry, but he held in his sorrow and tried to reason with himself. Raffaele needed to die. He knew too much about the Brotherhood. He needed to kill him. Even though he knew revenge would not erase the hatred and remorse he felt, he knew it had to be done regardless.

He spent the rest of his time alone devising how he would find and kill Raffaele.

* * *

"Only one of us can get in." Altair explained to Desmond. "If you would like to do it, I am willing to let you. I am sure you would succeed and it would give you something to take your mind off of these morbid events as of late."

"No..." Desmond held up his hand. "You are the better Assassin, Altair. You should go and get the paintings for us. I will ensure our brothers and sisters are being cared for."

"Of course."

Altair bowed his head and departed, making Desmond wish he could go along with if only for some adventure and something to keep him occupied. He decided he could keep himself occupied with the Assassins, ensuring they were recovering well, and no attacks had been made against their allies. He would also update himself on the current activities of the hooded ones and of the Templars.

As he turned to leave, his eyes rested on a familiar face in the crowds. His heart sped up as anger boiled up within him like hot water.

"YOU!" He started running after the fleeing figure. "GET BACK HERE! I AM GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!"

He raced after the man, plowing through people and jumping over stands in an attempt to get to him faster. The figure began to make his way up the buildings and Desmond gave heated chase after. Over rooftops amid the shouting of riflemen, Desmond chased after the other man, finally making a mad leap as the man tried to jump from one building to another. They fell twenty feet to the hard ground below, their fall broken by posts and ledges along the way.

Desmond lay there on the cold cobblestone, groaning at the ache in his muscles and the bruising along his side, before he remembered he had caught the man. He rolled over and latched onto the ankle of the figure, whom had already stood to escape, causing him to fall again to the ground. Rapidly, Desmond crawled over the man and pinned him down harshly with his hands on the other man's wrists.

"Raffaele." He snarled between his teeth, feeling the violence bubbling up in him. "You _murderer_."

"Cazzo!" Raffaele wriggled beneath him frantically, fear in his eyes, but also a deep hatred to rival Desmond's own. "Let me go, you cazzo!"

"You killed those who once called you brother!" Desmond snapped, spit flying from his mouth as he wrestled to hold Raffaele down. "You _murdered_ Luca!"

"If he was fool enough to let Ezio lead him than he deserved to die!"

Desmond punched the man, giving himself a break from wrangling him.

"You fucking killed him!" Desmond shouted, grabbing the front of Raffaele's robes to bring him up only to shove him back down to the ground. He did this repeatedly with growing fervor. "He was your brother! Your friend!"

"I serve the Templars now!" Raffaele tried to stop the abuse, but to no avail. "They wouldn't let me die the way Ezio was going to!"

Desmond began to punch him over and over again, blood flying up into his face as his body coiled with a rage he had never felt before.

"You killed him!" He roared, gasping for breath with each swing. "You killed him! You killed countless others! You murdered your brothers and sisters! You sick..."

His words stopped making sense to him as he continued to punch until Raffaele hardly resembled his former self. By this time, Desmond was sweating and panting for breath, his already taxed body exhausted. His shaking hands found the ground on either side of Raffaele's face. Beneath him, Raffaele wheezed each breath, puffy black and red eyes barely open enough to stare at Desmond through tears and sweat.

"_Long...live...the...Templars..._" Raffaele mumbled between his bruised and bloody lips.

Desmond pressed his hand to the side of Raffaele's face.

"Fuck you." He spat at Raffaele then unleashed his blade.

It had not been the glorious picture he had imagined. He had not said those words he had meant to say. He had not killed Raffaele with the dignity and honor of an Assassin. He felt dirty, despicable, and unworthy to hold the title of Master. How could he face his men when he had done what he had done? Though he had broken none of the tenets, he had lost himself when a Master was never supposed to give in to emotions in such a way. He felt vile, repulsive, and foul. A bath sounded nice, but he was sure the waters would not wash away these feelings.

His wanderings took him to the old hideout, now mostly ash and crumpled stone. He was joined not long later by Altair.

"Raffaele was found beaten and dead by Augusto." Altair said after several minutes of silence. "It appears a hidden blade finished the job."

Desmond did not have to think long over an answer.

"I do not deserve the title of Master." Desmond responded, knowing he had no chance of lying his way out of this. "You should demote me."

"No." Altair objected. "But not because you don't deserve it. The Assassins look up to you for guidance. If you were demoted, in particular during these troubled times, it would weaken their morale greatly. You will bear this burden, however, Desmond. You will hold responsibility for it."

"I understand." Desmond whispered.

"Come, brother." Altair patted Desmond's shoulder. "We should return to Leonardo's workshop. We have all of the paintings and we must hurry to find Leonardo and Ezio."

"Lead the way." Desmond motioned Altair to do so and followed behind, wishing this day would just end already.

* * *

"Answer my question!"

Ezio felt another foot slam into his face and he cringed into himself, blood dribbling from his nose and mouth. How many days had it been? He had no idea anymore, having lost count in the dark dingy cave he'd been brought to alongside Leonardo. At first, he had wondered why the hadn't killed him since he was merely an additional burden, but time had proven his use. Instead of beating Leonardo, they beat Ezio, causing the painter to whimper and nearly cave. It was at Ezio's insistence that Leonardo had fallen silent. They beat the painter as well, but spared no less beatings to Ezio for it. Both were bruised and scraped and bleeding. Ezio couldn't remember the last time he had felt this miserable. His only saving thought was the hope Altair and Desmond were on their way to save them. He hated feeling this vulnerable, but had little choice in the matter. The bomb had taken them both by surprised and Ezio had taken the brunt of the force when he'd shielded his friend. Though he had managed to get to his feet and draw his sword, he'd been disoriented and greatly wounded. There had been little of a fight and they had been captured.

"Do you want him to hurt again?" Their capture screamed at Leonardo before drawing a knife. "Or would his death encourage you?"

"D-d-d-don't kill him!" Leonardo begged shrilly, his throat burning from lack of water and an abundance of wails. "P-p-p-please!"

"You don't want to see him die?" The man snickered, motioning his men to hoist Ezio up. "Then your words can save him!"

"L-l-l-leave him alone!" Leonardo pleaded. "H-h-h-he has nothing to do w-w-with this!"

The man ran his knife along Ezio's jaw, the scrap across the scruff loud to their ears. "Answer my question. How do you get into the temple?"

"S-s-s-stop this..." Leonardo whimpered, tears running down his face. "Please..."

"Answer my question!" The man hollered, his rage resurfacing past his malice.

Leonardo began to sob, but did not answer.

"Idiota!" The man turned back to Ezio and drove the knife into his ribs, causing the Assassin to call out in pain and Leonardo to shriek. "Answer my question or we will not tend to his wounds and he will die here in this miserable little hole in the ground and he can rot in it as well!"

"Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!"

Leonardo was cracking beneath the strain, hyperventilating and wide-eyed as sweat poured down his face. Normally a strong-willed man, there was no doubt he would have endured this brutality had he been captured alone and faced the beatings on his own. Watching a close friend be brutalized and brought so close to the doors of death was not something Leonardo could stand though and Ezio was sure the painter would soon tell them the way into the Temple.

There was suddenly a bang and the men standing around them began to collapse beneath a storm of arrows and bullets.

A few moments later Altair and Desmond had rushed to the men's sides, followed by their recruits.

"Ezio!" Desmond quickly unbound the Italian while his subordinates gawked at the realization they had been tricked. "Oh, god...there's a lot of blood."

"I'm fine..." Ezio huffed, pressing his now free hand to the wound. "It's not deep...just need it bandaged."

"Are you all right, Leonardo?" Altair asked as he untied the man.

"I'm fine." Leonardo replied in a shaky wet voice, lashes blinking away the tears which had formed in his eyes. "Thank you."

"If you are ready, let us leave this miserable place." Altair suggested as he offered Leonardo some water, which the man took gratefully.

"No..." Leonardo choked around his drink. "We cannot. Not without reaching the final room of the temple."

"You are hurt." Altair stated in a tone, which meant he would argue Leonardo to the end. "As is Ezio."

"I cannot go any further." Ezio admitted, which to Desmond was a sign the Italian was seriously hurt if he was not willing to participate in an adventure.

"I will be fine." Leonardo insisted. "If that number is left intact, we risk another madman discovering it."

Desmond stood. "Altair, we can accompany him and ensure he makes it in and out all right. Ezio can be attended to by the recruits."

"_I am not a recruit_." Augusto growled from somewhere amid the group, though it sounded as if he hadn't meant for anyone to hear.

"This will be fine." Ezio encouraged. "I can stay with our brothers. Cazzo, they can even help me out of this dio maledire inferno."

Desmond smiled lightly. "Augusto. Take care of our prezioso mentore italiano."

The subordinates all snickered while Ezio scowled.

"And update him." Desmond added, suddenly serious and the others nodded just as solemnly.

"Lead the way, Leonardo." Desmond waved the painter ahead while the subordinates reached down to help Ezio stand.

Leonardo smiled weakly before activating the stone which opened the doors.

* * *

The journey to the center of the temple was mostly Desmond carrying Leonardo on his back and Altair going around solving the puzzles to get through various doors. This was fine by Desmond as he chatted with Leonardo and informed him of their latest troubles.

"I am so sorry to hear about Luca." Leonardo confessed. "I knew of his affections for you and had hoped the two of you would finally work something out. It is...I cannot express the grief I feel for you."

Desmond swallowed down the pain in his throat. "It's fine."

"It isn't..."

"I...I actually think it might be." Desmond sighed heavily as he watched Altair moving around the room. "Think about it. I am from another time. I am being held by the Templars. I will have to go home and I will have to fight them. Luca can't go with me. I'm not even sure Altair and Ezio can go with me. I may have to go alone. I am horrified Luca is...dead and I am never going to recover from losing him, but I would have lost him anyways, one way or another."

"Don't..." Leonardo choked on a sob. "Don't talk like that Desmond. None of us want you to go back to that horrible place. We'll keep you here."

"I don't think I have a choice." Desmond mumbled.

"We won't let you!" Leonardo insisted, sniffling. "And you shouldn't think in such a morbid way. Just because you may or may not have to leave, does not mean you can't find happiness and love. We all want that for you, Desmond...so much..."

"I'm sorry for making you cry." Desmond felt miserable again.

"It was bound to happen." Leonardo half-laughed, half-lamented. "Too many horrible things have happened while captured...and Ezio..."

"Is strong." Desmond reassured his friend. "He'll be fine."

Leonardo swallowed hard. "Good."

The final piece of the puzzle was solved and they finally entered the final chamber of the temple.

After discovering the temple's secret, which was clearly another thing left by Those-Who-Came-Before, Altair encouraged Leonardo to abandon the temple and move on to other things. Leonardo agreed and the three exited the temple, leaving behind whatever it was they were meant to discover there.

"_Pull him out_."

* * *

It took several minutes for Desmond to orient himself and then he was up and swinging, even though the world around him was merely a blur of smudgy faces and incoherent voices. Hands grappled onto him to restrain him, but he fought for all he was worth. A voice kept calling his name, growing clearer and clearer as his vision began to focus. All attempts to fight halted upon looking into the eyes of his father.

"Desmond." William was saying and the young Master realized his father had his hands on his forearms. "Relax, Desmond. You're safe."

Shakily, Desmond sank into the arms restraining him and was immediately dragged to a seat.

"How are you feeling, son?" William asked as he began to inspect Desmond's eyes and ears. "Any nausea? Headaches?"

"Stop..." Desmond brushed away his father's hands, still partially in a daze. "Stop touching me."

"Desmond." William's brows were pinched, but Desmond was sure it wasn't from worry. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm...fine." Desmond coughed. "What happened? Where are we? What about the Templars?"

"We managed to infiltrate Abstergo." William explained, crossing his arms. "And we rescued you."

"And where are we now?"

"A safe place."

"So why was I still in the Animus?"

William hesitated to answer, carefully picking his words. "You were in the middle of an important memory. We didn't want to lose the coordinates."

Desmond stood. "So you were using me."

William was all business. "We needed to find the location of something important and that memory contained the coordinates. It was what Abstergo was after. Of course, they wanted the Apple Ezio had. As do we. Do you know where it is?"

"No." Desmond crossed his arms. "I don't. I made sure Ezio didn't tell me, so I couldn't give the location to the Templars."

"So you'll need to link up to Ezio around 1506 before the temple is discovered."

"I am not going back in the Animus." Desmond stated factually.

"At this point, if you want to travel between times, it is the only way and we need that Apple." William informed him. "We are running out of time, Desmond."

"Yeah?" Desmond scoffed. "Great. My own father is going to use me. I feel fantastic."

"Desmond, we..."

"We haven't seen each other in years!"

"And whose fault is that?" William snapped back.

"Oh, right, _real_ mature, dad." Desmond couldn't believe this. "Honestly, this is how you're going to greet me after years of not seeing one another? You're going to treat me like a test subject and toss me into the Animus without a care in the world! Oh, wait...I forgot. That's how you've always treated me. Just another guinea pig to run wheels in your lab until I can hardly breathe, can hardly stand, can hardly think! You're a real asshole, you know that? You're a real fucking asshole!"

William was giving Desmond a raised brow look. "Desmond, I don't speak Italian."

Desmond froze for a moment and then laughed bitterly. "Well, that's good because you don't want to _know_ what I was saying."

William shook his head in irritation. "The world is resting on our shoulders right now, Desmond. Get your act together. You have fifteen minutes before you go back into the Animus."

"Cazzo stronzo di un bastardo inutile di un padre." Desmond muttered as he shuffled around the room, wanting to kick everything he came across.

He noticed Shaun and stopped moving as his eyes stared at the British man in surprise.

"You're alive." He said as he approached the man. "How did you survive?"

"Desmond, I don't speak Italian either." Shaun said in sarcasm and Desmond noticed the bandages and bruises lining the man's body.

"Sorry." Desmond sighed, struggling to switch to English. "I haven't spoken English in two years."

"Actually, only about seventy-two hours." Shaun corrected.

Desmond decided it wasn't worth arguing over. "How did you survive? I thought the Templars killed everyone."

"They tried to." Shaun sighed. "But Rebecca and I managed to survive. She's in the hospital though and won't be out for at least a week."

"I'm really sorry to hear that."

"Yeah, well..." Shaun shrugged. "We're Assassins. Shit is always bound to hit the fan at some point, right?"

"True." Desmond also shrugged and left the British man behind.

He eventually collapsed down in a chair and asked, "What about food? Or something to drink? Where do I get my hands on that?"

Someone, likely another Assassin, opened an ice chest and tossed Desmond a bottled water, yogurt, and a string cheese. He didn't complain.

"Your fifteen minutes is up." William said as he approached his son just as Desmond had finished his water. "In the Animus, Desmond."

Desmond glared at him. "Ti odio."

He got up from his seat and walked over to the waiting Animus.

"Who's going to make sure this thing doesn't fry my brain?" Desmond asked as he took his seat.

"I am." William replied.

"I feel_ so_ safe." Desmond's sardonic tone earned him a scowl.

"I can't guarantee this will land you in 1506." William informed Desmond. "Either way, get the information regardless."

"Fine." Desmond huffed, trying to relax even though his whole body told him to flee. His only reassurance was the opportunity to meet up with Altair and Ezio and let them know he was back with the Assassins, though he wasn't sure they'd find comfort from that thought. "I'm ready."

"Good luck."

"Uh-huh."

* * *

Desmond rushed through the soldiers fighting one another, trying his best to avoid getting into a fight with anyone. Fire raged all around him as he dashed around buildings and burning trees. His gaze turned skyward towards the fortress walls with collapsing siege towers all around it and to the figures on the top of it. His mouth fell open at seeing Ezio standing near the edge, holding out Cesare Borgia. There was a brief moment where Desmond though Ezio was merely trying to get the man to confess something then he watched as Cesare was released to fall to his death.

* * *

"Desmond!" Ezio wrapped his arm around the young Master in an embrace. "You're alive! You're well! What happened? Where were you? Leonardo is still pissed you dropped him!"

"I was taken back to my time." Desmond explained as he gave Altair a friendly hug. "The Assassins have me now and they need the location of the Apple."

Ezio's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"I don't understand it, but I have a feeling they're going to make this difficult unless I give them the information they want."

"Fuck them." Ezio spat the words. "They can go fuck themselves."

Desmond sighed. "I don't have a lot of options here, Ezio."

"It is beneath the Colosseum." Altair suddenly said causing Ezio to scowl. "You can access the entrance there."

"Great." Desmond hoped he wasn't about to be pulled from the Animus just because he had found the information they wanted. "Hey, is Cesare..."

"He is dead." Ezio nodded. "He is finally gone."

"Good." Desmond breathed. "So we can focus on going to Masyaf."

"Yes." The two Assassins said in unison, but they knew nearly instantly afterwards their intentions would not come to be.

Desmond felt a jerk along his spine and immediately reached back to grab at it. In the same moment, it was as if he had opened his eyes and he was back in his own time.

"Assholes." He muttered, sitting up slowly. "I would have actually liked to have gone to Masyaf, in case you guys didn't notice."

"Time is of the essence." William began ordering his Assassins to pack up their equipment. "Shaun, Desmond, you will come with me. We will retrieve the Apple."

"Great." Desmond grumbled, already not looking forward to receiving orders from his dad. "Lead on, stronzo."

William rounded on him. "I know you think you're all high and mighty now that you've made friends with Altair and Ezio and the fact they felt it was necessary to promote you to the Assassin and then Master ranks, but you are not either of those here and I am in charge, which means you need to show me the respect I deserve. Do I make myself clear, Desmond?"

"Yup." Desmond replied, unfazed. "And I am showing you the respect you deserve. You're probably a great Assassin, Bill, but you're a lousy dad."

William grimaced darker. "Shut up and let's get moving."

"Yes, sir." Desmond nearly snapped a mock salute to go with his sarcastic tone, but managed to resist.

This wasn't going to be fun.

* * *

"This is amazing." Shaun gaped at the Apple on its pedestal. "We will actually have a Piece of Eden in our hands."

Desmond wrinkled his nose. "You had better not be intending to use it the way Al Mualim did."

William scowled at his son. "Why do you think so lowly of us?"

"Gee, I wonder." Desmond muttered, peering around at glowing walls.

"Well, do something." Shaun encouraged. "Ask it something."

"Like what?" Desmond scoffed and suddenly light spread around the room. Strange symbols scattered themselves on the walls and flickered in and out of existence. "I hate it when it goes all psychedelic like that."

His father and Shaun began to discuss the symbols and Desmond reached for the Apple.

This proved to be a serious mistake. Everything stilled around him and an ethereal voice began to speak to him. His body was paralyzed and he was unable to move it. She continued to speak to him, making his body shudder involuntarily with sparks of pain.

"Let me go!" He ordered through gritted teeth. "Stop it!"

"You have so many important things to do." She assured him. "But not here...not in this time...no...I will send you myself."

There was a flash of golden light and then darkness.

* * *

Desmond awoke to voices arguing to each other and blinked his eyes open against the heat of blinding light. Slowly, he sat up, aching and not feeling particularly well, before inspecting his surroundings. The walls were plain and he was on the floor amid a mountain of cushions. Heavy incense hung in the air.

"Where am I?" He wondered aloud, weakly standing.

Someone entered the room and he looked up, startled, only to grin immediately.

"ALTAIR!"

"Dezmund!" The Syrian greeted the man with an embrace. "You are finally awake!"

"Where am I?" Desmond asked, trying to peer around his friend through the door.

"Masyaf."

"We're in Masyaf?" Desmond gasped. "Is Ezio here? Are we going to the library?"

"The library is not built yet, Dezmund." Altair informed him with a small smile. "We are in 1214."

Desmond's mouth dropped. "_We are?_"

"Yes." Altair nodded. "A couple days after you left us in Italia, I awoke in Masyaf. This was several years ago and I had arrived only hours after I had left to retrieve you from the water."

"God, I forgot I was here briefly."

Altair continued, "One of the Assassins discovered you in Damascus over a month ago and word was sent to me of a foreign Assassin. I immediately went to see whom it was and upon seeing it was you had you moved to Masyaf. How are you feeling?"

"Fine." Desmond replied, sighing. "What about Ezio?"

"He did not come with me."

"Damn..." Desmond frowned. "Can't we ever keep our shit together?"

Altair chuckled. "What brings you here?"

"I don't really remember." Desmond grimaced deeply. "We went to get the Apple and some voice started talking to me the moment I touched it. Then I passed out. I don't know what happened."

"I was worried when we found you that you would not wake." Altair's eyes betrayed his concern. "You did not look well."

"I'm sore and my stomach is upset a little."

"You've been surviving off of soup." Altair told him. "It is a wonder you are alive."

"Why does this keep happening to me." Desmond sighed heavily. "How is everything here?"

"Both of my sons are doing well."

Desmond grinned. "Two, huh?"

"Two, yes." Altair grinned and Desmond could clearly see the pride and joy in the Syrian's eyes. "They are both eager to meet you. Many did not believe my story of you, but seeing as you look almost just like me..."

"Which reminds me..." Desmond rubbed a hand over his chin. "Do you have a razor?"

Altair nodded. "Yes. I can provide you with a blade to shave, if you so wish, brother."

"I would love one, thank you."

Altair immediately called someone in. The young Assassin-in-training bowed respectfully several times throughout Altair's orders before dismissing himself to do as he was instructed. The Syrian returned his attention to Desmond.

"You should eat before you explore." Altair told Desmond, apparently guessing what the young Master wanted to do. "And I believe Malik would love to meet you."

Desmond's brow rose. "How much did you tell Malik?"

"Everything." Altair admitted and watched as Desmond groaned. "What? Why?"

"You're as bad as Leonardo is with Salai."

Altair rolled his eyes. "Malik is an Assassin."

"And?" Desmond asked and smiled at the scowl he received. "I trust Malik as well. Don't worry, Altair."

"Good." Altair forced Desmond to sit back down on the cushions. "I have business to attend to. The novice will bring you everything you need. Oh, and a change of clothes since yours were ruined."

"Great."

"And I will return soon with Malik." Altair started for the door. "Stay out of trouble, please, Dezmund."

"I'll try, but you know me." Desmond called after him and heard the Syrian laugh in response.

He sighed and stared around at the change of scenery from lush Roma to the more dry Masyaf.

"Oh, well..." He leaned back on the cushions and closed his eyes, trying his best to wait patiently for the novice to return.

"Master?"

His eyes opened and he sat up again at the sight of the novice entering the room. He received a humble bow.

"I am Shezan Ibn'Zafir." The novice introduced himself as he placed a tray of food and drink down before Desmond before removing a bag from his side and beginning to empty its contents. "I am to convenience you, Master."

"Thank you." Desmond took up the food, mindful to use only his right hand in doing so, and watched as Shezan organized the outfit and gear of a Master Assassin into a neat pile on the floor. "You are still a novice, Shezan. How long have you been training?"

He knew his Arabic wasn't good, but he was glad when the young man seemed to understand.

"I have been training since I was a boy." Shezan explained meekly, reminding Desmond of Kadar, Malik's late younger brother, for some reason. "This year I am to be initiated into the Order."

"Your family must be proud."

"They are." He said gleefully before realizing he was speaking with a Master and turning his eyes downcast again. "Your robes, Master, and the blade you asked for. I will bring you water and a bowl."

"Thank you."

He watched Shezan leave and then focused on his food as he suddenly remembered he was alone. His thoughts began to churn through ideas, wondering if it was possible to, since he was now in the past, fast forward somehow to the day before the Tiber Island Hideout explosion and save Luca. He shook the thought from his mind, reminding himself not to get his hopes up for something guaranteed not to happen. Luca was dead. There was nothing he could do about it.

He accepted the bowl of water Shezan brought to him and immediately set about cutting off most of his hair and clean shaving his face. He frowned though when he looked at his reflection in the water and found he looked far too much like Altair.

"I just can't win." Desmond groaned as he set the blade aside and reached for the robes.

Shezan dismissed himself as Desmond began to change, finding the outfit of the Levantine Assassins to be far less complicated than those of the Italians.

"He does look like you."

Desmond turned and faced the doorway where Altair and Malik were standing peering inside.

"He looks too much like you." Malik gaped at Desmond. "Though younger...and more handsome..."

"Stronzo." Altair muttered.

"You keep saying that of late, brother." Malik commented. "I do not know what it means, but, considering when you use it, I doubt it is a pleasant thing."

Altair smiled slightly. "Desmond, are you ready?"

"Yes, Mentor." Desmond approached, giving the two men a bow.

"This is Desmond Miles." Altair introduced. "And this is Malik Al-Sayf."

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, brother." Desmond bowed again with respect.

"As it is to meet you." Malik replied, eyes narrowing slightly. "No doubt you are eager to explore the city. I will leave you and Altair to each other then."

"Thank you." Desmond followed Altair away from the building and found he was in the fortress itself. "Wow...it looks so much bigger actually being here."

Altair smiled slightly. "I am glad you are here, Dezmund. It is truly an honor."

Desmond grinned back. "I am honored to be here, Mentor. How fairs the order?"

"Flourishing...I hope." Altair chuckled. "We have made massive improvements and grow more secretive with each passing month. My hope is our actions will be less open and ideally be as secretive as the Italian Assassins become."

"I am sure they do."

"As am I."

There was silence as Desmond wandered with the Syrian through the city, fascinated by what he had thought he'd never get the chance to see in reality.

"When I return to my time..." Desmond whispered. "When the Templars lose and I am no longer needed...I think I will come here to Masyaf and train Assassins to follow the way you and Ezio have taught me. They will be kinder than those surrounding me now. They will be opposites of the Templars as they should be."

Altair nodded slowly. "Hopefully, such teachings can spread throughout the rest of the Assassin Order and it can return to its former glory."

"Hopefully," Desmond agreed.

"We should return." Altair stated, motioning Desmond back to the fortress. "There is much still to discuss, but where ears cannot pry."

* * *

Desmond adored living in Masyaf. The people were pleasant to him and a bit too respectful since he was considered by their Mentor to be a Master Assassin. He was given a group of ten novices to train each day and he often busied himself with them, preferring their company to the books Malik insisted he learn to read. Malik was quickly growing to be a friend, since it seemed the Dai liked the 'incredibly humble version of Altair' as he liked to call Desmond. They spent a good deal of time together, Malik teaching Desmond the details of the Creed as well as how to speak, read, and write Arabic. He enjoyed his lessons, but definitely had a preference for the activity training his novices provided. Beneath his command were several young men of varying backgrounds. Six, including Shezan, were born and raised in Masyaf. One had a Muslim mother while another was Hebrew. Two had been born of Christians whom had traveled to the Holy Land during the Crusades. He found it was difficult sometimes to keep the youths from harping on each other thanks to their different backgrounds, but managed somehow. He also learned they were all rather close to his own age, each being twenty-four. Though in the modern world he was still considered twenty-five, Desmond felt like he was reaching thirty, until Altair pointed out it was almost as if Desmond hadn't even aged a day, despite said age reaching his eyes.

"Your body is not aging, or so it seems." Altair informed the young Master. "Perhaps while living in the past you cannot?"

"I like this idea." Desmond laughed a little and Altair chuckled. "I'm immortal!"

"I think you can still be killed, brother." Altair pointed out. "Oh, and don't go around announcing this discovery either."

"Who do you think I am? Ezio?"

They shared a short laugh, but quickly fell to silence. It had already been months since Desmond had joined Altair at Masyaf, but no signs of Ezio had turned up, much to Desmond's dismay.

"Perhaps he will arrive later when something important happens." Altair suggested and Desmond nodded hopefully.

Life in Masyaf was rather rigidly set. Most days Desmond got up early to train the novices and spent most of his day doing this. In the evening, he exhausted his already tired brain over books and lessons with Malik. All meals he ate with Altair in the gardens and every night he slept in a room a few halls down from the chambers of Altair's family. He was able to meet Darim and Sef, Altair's sons, whom were elated to finally meant Desmond. Darim, the eldest treated Desmond with great respect, acting almost as if Desmond was the Mentor of Masyaf, while Sef treated Desmond more like an equal, much to his brother's chagrin. He enjoyed the young men's company greatly and was glad Sef was one of the novices he was training, though he worried he wasn't a suitable enough a trainer.

Finally, all of his novices graduated and were initiated into the Order as Assassins, ten months after Desmond had arrived in the Levant. He sat that night staring out at the village below the fortress and let out a long sigh, again wondering what had become of Ezio.

Living in Masyaf had permitted Desmond some time to heal. There were no deep memories in Masyaf, not yet anyways, and none of the memories he did have were sad. He wasn't constantly reminded of Raffaele, Enrico, and Luca here, though he did sometimes see them in the actions of the novices he had just finished training, and he had finally stopped having nightmares about Luca's death and the revenge he had sought on Raffaele. He felt as if Masyaf was his new beginning where he could start fresh from the pain and horror of the past few years he had dwelt in Roma.

"Dezmund." Altair approached him and took a seat on the rooftop beside the young Master. "What troubles you?"

"Life." Desmond said almost jokingly, but he meant the word. "Er...worried about Ezio and wondering what I am doing with my life."

"Healing." Altair replied as if there was no other answer. "I have a mission for you."

"Wonderful." Desmond said brightly, glad for a change of pace. "What will you have me do?"

"I have assigned Shezan and an older Assassin, Karim Al-Nadeem, to investigate the reported Templar sightings in Acre." He informed the man. "I would like you to accompany them and ensure their mission goes well. Let Karim teach Shezan, merely supervise, but give guidance when needed. I warn you, however, to use discretion when giving this guidance to Karim. He will not take lightly to even the slightest bit of humiliation. Guide him where Shezan cannot see and use...careful words."

"He is arrogant?"

"Proud." Altair corrected. "But not in a bad way. He has every right to be proud, given his heritage and his own personal skill. I would not wish to see this pride in our Order disappear, but I want to ensure he does not stop learning."

"Understood, Mentor."

"They will meet you at the gate leading outside of the village with horses. I assure you they intend to leave as early as possible."

"I will not let them wait then."

Altair patted Desmond's shoulder. "Safety and peace, brother."

"To you as well, Mentor."

They parted ways, Desmond now excited with the prospects of a new adventure.

* * *

Morning didn't seem to come soon enough and Desmond had already set off for the stables before the sun was up. It wasn't because he wanted to leave Masyaf either. He was simply eager to be on a mission after all of these months of training novices.

Of course, he arrived too early and decided to ready the horses, speaking with the sleepy stableboy to get an idea of which horses were appropriate.

"Al-Nadeem only rides Hariq." The boy yawned, helping Desmond pull out a high-stepping and snorting brown stallion. "I should tack him though. You can tack the other two."

Desmond agreed, watching as the stallion, full of energy even after just waking, pranced circles around the youth, puffing out heavy breaths and swishing his tail vigorously. He was a much better rider nowadays, but Desmond was still unsure around such large beasts, especially if they were energetic creatures.

Once the three horses were ready, Desmond checked on supplies, most importantly water, and then waited. By this time the sun had turned the sky a pale gray, though it had yet to rise, and he didn't have long to wait. Shezan came down the hill first, alone, and yawning. Apparently, he two had been anxious to be on his way, though not nearly as much as Desmond. They talked about the mission briefly while they awaited Karim's arrival, Hariq pawing impatiently at the ground. It did not take much longer for Karim to arrive and he greeted them with a bow of his head and a quirked brow. Desmond was surprised at the green eyes to meet him beneath the man's hood, though was prohibited from seeing any further features do to the mouth covering the man chose to wear.

"We are ready then, Master?" Karim asked, eyeing Desmond in what the young Master was sure was speculation.

"Yes." Desmond mounted his horse and the other two followed suit on their own steeds. "To Acre then."

"I will lead the way." Karim stated, coaxing his horse forward.

Desmond permitted him, knowing his experience in the Animus was likely not as accurate as he hoped.

* * *

They arrived in Acre by the end of the day, having spent a good portion of their time trying to avoid soldiers and the straggling bits of Templars still wandering around. It took them a little while to get into the city, Shezan quite nearly getting caught by the guards, and then they headed to the Bureau where they were met by a Rafiq Desmond did not recognize. He assumed the other Rafiq had retired or passed away.

"Rest, brothers." The Rafiq advised them after giving their exhausted features a glance over. "You can begin your mission tomorrow."

Desmond did not complain as he collapsed alongside Karim in the mass of cushions.

Within only minutes they heard Shezan begin to snore.

"We are investigating Templar sightings in the city, correct?" Karim asked in a whisper, though he still startled Desmond.

"That is what I was told." Desmond replied.

"Then, no offense to you, Master, but why are you here?"

Desmond smiled into the darkness. "I imagine our Mentor wanted me to go do something other than being lazy in Masyaf."

"I never saw you lazy." Karim pointed out.

Desmond frowned slightly. "Yes, I was kept busy in Masyaf, but my novices had graduated and I was left with nothing to do. I imagine our Mentor feared me stagnating."

"It doesn't take long for the next set of novices to be ready."

Desmond knew the man was suspicious of their Mentor's true intentions, no doubt worried Desmond was here to inspect his own capabilities.

"My life was rather bitterly rewarding and painful right before coming here." Desmond commented. "I'm sure our Mentor only wishes to keep me from sinking into memories I am best kept out of."

Karim was silent as he thought on this and Desmond used this momentary lull in the conversation to think up other excuses.

"Did you lose your family?" Karim asked finally.

"My friend and lover." Desmond admitted.

Karim shifted now so he could face Desmond, propping his head up on his hand. "Who was this friend and lover?"

Desmond hesitated to respond, unsure of how Karim would react to know Desmond preferred men. He had a feeling such desires were looked down upon in this society as it had been in the Renaissance.

"Luca." He replied, hoping the name wouldn't ring as masculine in Karim's ears.

He hadn't hoped strongly enough.

"An Italian man?" Karim's voice betrayed no disgust or surprise, merely a desire for clarification.

Desmond saw no reason to lie.

"Yes. A fellow Assassin."

"In Italy?"

"Yes."

Karim thought on this for a long time, eyes downcast.

"So what the Mentor said of you is true: you are from another time?"

"Yes."

After another lengthy pause, Karim sank back down into the cushions.

"The world is full of wonder."

"I suppose."

Desmond hoped Karim would drop the subject, but the man continued.

"And you came to Masyaf to escape the memories?" Karim's question made Desmond tense.

"I came to Masyaf to help our Mentor in anyway I can." Desmond replied. "Escaping the memories just happened to be a bonus."

Karim nodded slowly. "I imagine. We should rest. We can continue this conversation another time."

"If you wish..." Desmond turned so he faced away from Karim and begged the divine Karim forgot all about continuing this conversation.

* * *

"Master," Shezan gave Desmond a nervous look. "What do we do?"

Desmond stared down at the group of almost thirty Templars, each well-equipped for battle.

"What do you think we should do?" Desmond asked, playing the role of teacher.

"I...don't know..." Shezan looked hopefully towards Karim, whom was giving the situation a serious stare. "W-what do you think, Al-Nadeem?"

Karim continued to inspect the situation, green eyes flying over options, potential problems, and calculations.

"If we were able to loose that bell..." Karim suggested, pointing towards the church tower beneath which the men were gathered. "We could cause a lot of damage and mayhem, which would be ideal for us to jump in and slay them."

Shezan nodded immediately in agreement.

"Remember to always think, Shezan." Desmond advised. "Don't just agree. Try to think of any possible problems to arise, no matter whom gives the plan."

Karim's eyes narrowed at Desmond and the young Master hoped he hadn't undermined the other man's authority.

"I-I don't see any problems." Shezan mumbled, glancing at Karim.

Desmond instantly understood why he had been sent along with the group. It wasn't as if Karim wasn't a capable Assassin. The problem was he was too capable. He made the newer Assassins nervous and they didn't want to correct him, even if there was a serious gaping hole in the plan.

"I do not agree." Desmond stated. "There is at least one serious problem with such a plan and we cannot carry it out until you tell me what it is, Shezan."

"Now is not the time to be..." Karim began.

"But it is." Desmond replied. "He must learn now. We cannot waste time in training. Live and learn, but constantly learn. We are always improving. We can never stop improving. It is vital to our survival to adapt to our surroundings and in order to adapt we must learn. Right now, I want Shezan to learn. He will learn best by figuring things out on his own."

Karim glared at Desmond and the young Master realized he had done exactly what Altair had cautioned him not to do.

"Th-there is a chance s-some will escape in the chaos." Shezan finally stuttered, eyes downcast. "B-but there is an easy solution. We can just have someone stay up here and keep an eye out for an stragglers, taking them out with throwing knives or giving pursuit if need be."

Desmond nodded slowly. "This is a good plan. In order to have the best lookout for such a task, I advice the one who looses the bell remain in the tower. The dust will provide cover for those whom attack, but it will make the watch have a harder time spotting targets and they must be careful not to attack those inside. I am more than willing to go to the bell, but if either of you would prefer the task..."

He met no opposition and he immediately set out to the belfry, well aware they were running short on time. The gathering would soon disperse and he knew they would likely not get another chance. Once in the tower, he checked to ensure the Templars were still gathered before swinging the bell and cutting it as it swung towards the Templars. He watched as it hit and rolled, flipping end over end before crashing against a wall. Dust billowed up in thick clouds, nearly blocking his view of the two Assassins leaping into the fray. He immediately began to help them, tossing knives after those fleeing, mindful to check and ensure neither novice nor veteran were caught in the path of the projectile. Finally, he saw Karim climb on top of a building and wave to him.

Hastily, Desmond exited the belfry, hiding from the now alert guards and followed the two Assassins back to the Bureau amid the alarm bells.

"Successful it sounds like." The Rafiq greeted them.

"Shezan." Karim snapped, venom in his voice. "Wash up and eat. Master, a word."

The Rafiq's brow rose and Desmond noticed Shezan was staring pointedly at the ground. Desmond didn't argue as he followed Karim out of the room.

"So this is the purpose of the Mentor sending you?" Karim snarled as soon as they were in the adjoining room away from the Rafiq and Shezan. "To humiliate me?"

Desmond sighed, pulling off his hood in a show of friendship and trust. "I was not sent to humiliate you. As I said last night..."

"You lied."

"I told you what I believed to be true."

"What did the Mentor ask of you then, _Master_?" He nearly spat the title.

"He asked me to accompany you both."

"And to keep an eye on me?"

"No." Desmond corrected. "He asked me to not get in the way of you teaching Shezan, but to give my input if I felt it necessary. In all honesty, I am supposed to merely tag along."

"Liar." Karim glared fiercely at Desmond. "You are a liar."

"I am not lying."

"You are!" Karim crossed his arms and Desmond was reminded instantly of Luca, dignified and powerful. "You were sent to inspect my own abilities."

"I was told you were a capable Assassin." Desmond decided to add. "And the Mentor didn't want to see you stop learning."

"So you are inspecting my own abilities?" Karim hissed.

"I was not told to inspect your abilities."

"And you are not able to infer his subtle words?" Karim gave a mocking mirthless laugh.

"I do not believe our Mentor would try to use subtlety when giving someone a command." Desmond responded, silencing the other Assassin. "Direct commands are the only way to get what a person truly wishes for."

Karim narrowed his eyes at Desmond. "Do not undermine my authority again, Master. You are merely accompanying to keep from boredom. It is not your duty any longer to teach Shezan."

Desmond decided the other Assassin had gone too far. "You are wrong in this matter, Karim. Unlike you, I am a Master and I have the authority to teach even you. I will not let Shezan's teaching suffer from your arrogance."

Karim's head rose and the pride in his eyes told Desmond Altair was wrong. Karim was not a proud man, but an arrogant one as Desmond had initially assumed.

"As you wish, Master." Karim bowed his head, but there was no mistaking the mocking tone and disgust in the man's vibrant green eyes.

Without further word, Karim returned to the room where the Rafiq and Shezan were while Desmond remained where he was, struggling over what to do next.

* * *

The following day felt bitter and violent. Karim objected to Desmond's every command from the decision to stay in Acre and investigate further in case those Templars weren't the only ones to getting food at the market for their meal. Shezan had fallen unusually quiet. Desmond already knew the young man was a nervous mess and preferred to remain silent instead of making conversation. With Karim snapping at everything, Shezan had chosen to stay out of the heat by not saying anything at all.

This infuriated Desmond. He pulled Karim aside on several occasions to try to silence him, but Karim would not heed his warnings. By the end of the day, Desmond had assigned Karim and himself to patrol the city while Shezan slept.

"There is no need for this foolishness." Karim argued as they started out onto the roofs. "We're not guardsmen."

Desmond barely managed to keep in his temper. "We're going to spend the entire night talking if it is what we have to do for you to stop acting like a child."

Karim's eyes light with rage, but he made no immediate comeback. "What is it you would like to talk about then, Master?"

"Why did you become an Assassin, Karim?"

"None of your business."

"As your Master, I order you to answer my questions honestly and quickly or I will report you to the Mentor."

Karim scowled, but gave in. "My entire family is made-up of Assassins. We go back for generations."

"I see." Desmond kept his voice even. "And you became an Assassin because of family duty?"

"It has always been a choice." Karim argued. "I wanted to be an Assassin."

"Are you an only child?"

"I have a sister."

"How fairs she?"

"She is married to Malik Al-Sayf."

Desmond was only momentarily surprised. "Is she happy?"

"She is married to Malik Al-Sayf." Karim answered as if this was answer enough. "I believe it is a unique sort of happy."

"Elaborate."

Karim hesitated only momentarily before continuing. "Malik is a powerful figure within our Order, being right-hand to our Mentor, but he is not...whole."

Desmond frowned, recalling Malik's missing arm. "None of us are whole."

He wasn't sure if Karim agreed with him or not.

"And how do you feel about Malik?"

"He is a worthy husband for my sister."

Desmond nodded. "And what do you think of our Mentor?"

Karim looked away and Desmond immediately felt on edge.

"Honesty is recommended." Desmond added. "And you will not be faulted for it."

"I believe Abbas would make a better leader." Karim replied, looking at Desmond seriously.

"He is led by anger." Desmond shook his head. "Anyone who lets rage lead them has no right to lead others. He will lead his people into hell."

Karim looked away again. "I believe our Mentor is unfit for the position. He killed our former Mentor to take up the mantel."

Desmond exhaled heavily. "And it has troubled him since, forced to kill his Mentor because of such a great betrayal."

"You believe him?"

"I saw it with my own eyes." Desmond told the man. "I know the truth. Al Mualim used the Apple to ensnare your minds and Altair had no other choice, but to kill him because of it."

Karim was grimacing. "And how do we know he will not use the Apple on us himself?"

"Altair will always fight against the Apple and its use." Desmond stated. "I admit, I do not guarantee he won't use it in rage or fear, but from what I have seen, he strongly opposes its use. Using it makes us no better than the Templars, a fact Altair is well-aware of."

Karim stopped walking and Desmond turned to face him.

"You put your faith into him blindly." The man accused.

"A little." Desmond confessed. "Altair saved me from the Templars when I could not save myself. I am eternally indebted to him for how many times he has rescued me from Templars, Assassins, and myself. It is an adventure I wish I could share with you."

Karim's eyes dropped to the ground. "Why can't you?"

"Because it confuses even me."

"But you do trust him wholly?"

"Yes," Desmond nodded. "Completely, with my life and as a leader."

Karim crossed his arms and Desmond saw much of the violence had dissipated from the vibrant green.

"Why are you talking to me?" Karim asked, meeting Desmond's gaze.

"I feel we do not know each other well enough to judge the other." Desmond responded. "And I wanted to get to know you better."

"To judge me?" Karim scoffed.

"To gain another friend, I hope." Desmond turned and began to walk again, glad when he heard Karim begin to follow. "Were you raised in Masyaf?"

"Damasq." Karim answered. "And I was born there as well. It was difficult when I came to Masyaf for training. The others...they were harsh."

"You seem to have proven yourself."

"Altair was mean to me."

"Did he train alongside you?"

"No." Karim shook his head. "He was ahead of me, but he picked on the lower classes."

"He was an arrogant little asshole, wasn't he?" Desmond glanced back to see Karim's eyes wide and horrified at such insulting words to their Mentor. "Well, wasn't he?"

Karim chuckled anxiously. "Yes, he was."

"It's a good thing he's better about it." Desmond mused and watched Karim nod slowly. "Did you eventually make any friends?"

"Abbas...was kind to me."

"Ah..." Desmond was not happy to hear this, but kept his feelings to himself. "And you two are friends?"

"No." Karim didn't seem pleased with this. "Abbas...doesn't have friends."

Desmond sighed. "He didn't seem the type to."

They conversed for hours about life in Masyaf and training as an Assassin. With each topic covered, Karim's attitude changed drastically to something far more congenial and pleasant. By the time the sun was rising, Desmond had seen Karim laugh outright, causing himself to smile and feel significantly better.

"Karim, I must ask you." Desmond said as he stared out at the rising sun. "Why do you were the mouth covering?"

He had seen it on other Levantine Assassins, but only on the informants. He knew it didn't become common among many Assassin groups until the Italian Brotherhood was established by Ezio Auditore.

Karim tensed visibly and stared out at the city without saying a word while emotions raged in his eyes.

"You do not have to tell me." Desmond stated, placing a reassuring hand on the man's shoulder.

This seemed rather to be an encouragement as Karim reached up to remove the covering. Desmond had already figured by then something had happened to Karim's face, so he wasn't surprised when he saw the long stripes of scars running from Karim's left ear to his lips, marring the man's otherwise perfect skin.

"What happened?" Desmond asked after a moment of trying not to blatantly stare.

"Templar during their attack on Masyaf, after Altair failed the Master." Karim replied and Desmond understood even more where Karim's dislike for the Mentor came from. "From a flail."

"I am sorry."

Karim shrugged as he pulled the covering back up. "Such is life."

Desmond agreed silently. "Come. We should return to the Bureau. We will rest today."

"As you wish, Master." Karim motioned for Desmond to lead the way and the young Master was glad to see no more hatred and bitterness rested in the man's eyes, but there was no mistaking Karim still did not care for Desmond. He didn't mind since he felt tonight had been rather successful and let these positive thoughts follow him.


	7. Silentio Seconds

Chapter Seven: _Silentio Seconds  
_

Desmond was glad they returned to Masyaf a few days later, though mostly eager to get another mission and be on his way again. Karim parted ways with Desmond at the stables and Desmond took the time then to speak with Shezan.

"What do you think of Karim?" Desmond asked as he and the young man removed the tack from their horses.

Shezan instantly tensed, but answered regardless. "He is looked upon highly by most of the other Assassins."

Desmond smiled a little. "Your opinion, Shezan, not the opinions of others."

Shezan set aside the saddle and pad and reached for a rag to wipe the sweat from his horse's back. "Karim is an exceptional Assassin. Of this there is no doubt, but...he pushes strong against our Mentor's command and he is arrogant."

Desmond nodded slowly. "I had gathered as much."

"He is not a bad person, I don't believe." Shezan mumbled. "But It would make sense to worry about him. He...can be dangerous since so many look up to him."

"Do you believe he would join Abbas should Abbas take a stand against Altair?"

Shezan pursed his lips. "Probably."

"I see."

Desmond finished with his horse and left to seek out the Mentor, only to find Karim had reached him first. staying at the bottom of the stairs, he listened to their argument grow more and more heated.

"He is inept." Karim was snarling. "How he is a Master is beyond me!"

"He is a Master for a reason, I assure you." Altair replied back, his voice revealing how hard it was for him not to snap at the other Assassin. "And you will respect him as such."

"His whole purpose of being there was to humiliate me."

"No. It was to help you, Karim."

The Assassin let out a scoff. "I do not need help from an idiot and a fool!"

"You may take guard duty tonight on the first and second watch at the top of the tower." Altair demanded abruptly, finishing the conversation. "You are dismissed."

"As you wish, Mentor."

Desmond ascended the stairs, running into Karim on the way. Karim's head rose and his eyes were wide upon realizing Desmond had heard the conversation. He passed by without a word and ignored Desmond clear attempt to make conversation.

"I warned you to be wary of his pride." Altair grumbled when Desmond reached the top of the stairs.

"He is not proud, but arrogant." Desmond related their conversation during the night and Shezan's own words concerning the matter. "I believe Shezan. If Abbas were to rise against you, he has a faithful follower."

Altair ran a hand over his tired face and rested in his chair. "I have another task for you, Desmond, but I assure you it will not be as entertaining as the last."

"Anything I can do to help is a reward."

"You may not think so by the end of this.

* * *

"This is ridiculous." Karim complained as the two men wandered out on foot into the wilderness surrounding Masyaf. "Why are we doing this again?"

"We are inspecting the various safe houses we have scattered around us in case of an attack." Desmond replied. "We will need these safe houses ready for civilians should they need a place to hide."

"Masyaf is not entirely built for escaping, but defending." Karim argued.

"Look, Karim." Desmond sighed, tugging his hood over his eyes further. "We are going to be stuck together for the next couple of weeks without contact with anyone else. We may as well get along."

"And this is why the Master insisted we go together?" Karim snapped.

"It was my idea." Desmond lied. "He wished me to inspect the houses and I chose to have you come along with me instead of leaving you to him."

Karim didn't respond immediately. "Why?"

"I figured we could get to know each other and we have no deep wounds with one another as you do with Altair."

"You want to be friends?" Karim scoffed.

"Yes."

Karim fell instantly into silence and did not try to make further conversation for several hours as they traveled to the first safe house.

The safe house was a large building hidden in a small valley between the steep mountains. Desmond first ensured the road was still accessible to man and beast alike before heading towards the building itself.

"Are you not afraid of attack?" Karim asked as they approached the building.

"I am confident enough in my skills." Desmond replied.

"And you call me arrogant."

"There is a difference between arrogance and confidence." Desmond told the man. "You simply forgot where the line was."

They entered the deserted building and began to inspect it, checking for weakness in the framework and that the few supplies left at the house were well-stocked and not ruined.

"Plenty of blankets and some clothes." Desmond finished his inspection. "It seems well provided for."

"Then we are off to our next objective?"

Desmond glanced out the window at the sun already dipping low in the sky.

"We wouldn't make it before nightfall."

"Afraid of the dark, are we?"

"Not comfortable traversing steep perilous mountainsides in the middle of the night." Desmond corrected. "We'll spend the rest of the day here."

"It'll take a month to finish this mission." Karim grumbled as he exited the house to seek out some firewood.

They ate salted lamb jerky, bread, and walnuts for dinner before discussing what they would do about food once their supplies ran out, which was inevitable.

"We can always stop by the watch tower." Karim suggested. "But I advise not doing so often. We will need to provide for ourselves."

"I am not a good hunter, Karim." Desmond admitted.

"I can handle the hunting then." Karim sighed, slightly annoyed. "What do they teach you in your time?"

"Not how to hunt." Desmond assured the man. "Though I did learn as a kid. I just forgot from lack of use as an adult."

Karim's brow rose slowly, but then he shook his head. "I don't want to know."

Desmond laughed. "So, tell me more about yourself, Karim."

The man hesitated, but then consented. "What would you like to know?"

* * *

Desmond awoke to movement around him and lifted his groggy head to see Karim was already up and ready to go.

"You sleep like a baby." Karim grumbled as Desmond slowly got up. "If we don't start moving we may as well stay here."

"Uh-huh..." Desmond stretched and then began to pack up his supplies. "You could have just woke me."

"I was afraid of disturbing your sleep, Master." Karim said and then under his breath added, "For fear it would make you _more_ cranky."

Desmond laughed. "_I'm_ cranky? Speak for yourself."

Karim scowled and swung his pack onto his back. "Ready, Master?"

"Whenever you are."

They headed out into the wilderness for the second day in a row, Karim insistent the keep quiet for the sake of any game they may come across, though Desmond was sure it was because the man didn't want to converse with him. It didn't take long however for the silence to annoy them both enough to begin conversation. This time it was Kairm asking Desmond the questions, wanting to know where Desmond came from, what his life was like, and how he had trained to become a Master Assassin. It was clear Karim wanted to avoid any questions directed at him. He in particular seemed to want to know about Luca, much to Desmond's dismay, though he figured it was good for him to talk about it.

"Did you two love one another?" Karim asked finally.

"It wasn't a long relationship." Desmond admitted. "I'm not really sure. I cared deeply for him and had for a long time. It would have ruined me had I not been so desperate to find Ezio and Leonardo."

"You are so weak?" Karim's question made Desmond think for a little while.

"No." Desmond shook his head. "Just...easily devastated, I guess. Love is tricky. Finding it and enduring it and not letting it destroy you when it's over. It's hard."

Karim nodded slowly.

"Did you ever fall in love?" Desmond asked. "Get married...all of that?"

"No." Karim replied. "I have not been married..."

"Why?"

Karim sighed heavily. "The one I loved died during an attack on Masyaf...the one led by Haras. It was the same battle that earned Altair the title of Master."

"I am sorry." Desmond felt a surge of emotion, knowing a bit about how Karim felt to have someone they cared about killed by a traitor. "Who?"

Karim gave a sort of chuckle. "One of the men, Vahid Ahmedi, whom Haras shot with his crossbow before Altair managed to kill him."

Desmond was silenced by temporary shock and then he turned to face Karim to see if he was serious. He was surprised when he saw Karim was.

"I am sorry." Desmond repeated.

"I felt it was a sign from God." Karim admitted. "That to seek after men was a sin and I had been punished for it."

Desmond shook his head. "It's not a sin..."

"You can say this though you too lost your love?" Karim's brow rose.

Desmond frowned. "You have a point, but I'm not really religious, Karim."

"I figured as much."

They fell silent as they continued their descent to the next safe house, but Karim stopped them at the foot of the cliff.

"Someone is here." He motioned to the windows, one of which had been pried open. "Master?"

Desmond narrowed his eyes and then motioned a command to sneak up to the window and peek inside. Karim obeyed while Desmond pulled out and readied his crossbow. Abruptly a hand reached out and grabbed Karim dragging him inside, causing Desmond to shout in surprise and lose a bolt into the room. There was another yell as Desmond rushed to the window and leaped inside drawing his sword only to find Karim had his sword blade pressed to the wounded intruder's throat.

"Who are you and what do you want?" Karim snarled. "Speak quickly!"

"Cazzo." The man replied and Desmond's mouth dropped. "I don't speak this Holy Land gibberish!"

"Ezio?" Desmond asked and saw the intruder's face turn to him quickly.

"Desmond?"

Karim's eyes flicked between the two and he removed his blade from the intruder's throat slowly.

"DESMOND!" Ezio rushed to his feet and threw his arms around Desmond in a tight embrace. "By all that is holy, I am so glad to see you! I thought I was going to die out here!"

Desmond returned the embrace, nearly in tears. "My good friend! I've been wondering where you were!"

"You should have come looking for me sooner, stronzo!" Ezio laughed, pulling away to look at Desmond.

The Italian had aged some since last Desmond had seen him and there was no mistaking the gray beginning to spread through his dark hair nor the wrinkles creasing the corners of his eyes.

"You look so old!"

"Shut up, stronzo!" Ezio chuckled. "I can't believe you just shot me!"

"Oh, god..." Desmond turned his attention to the bolt sticking into Ezio's shoulder. "We...uh...we need to remove this."

"No, really?" Ezio laughed again, clearly overjoyed to not be alone any longer. "Are we near Masyaf?"

Karim tensed and turned to Desmond. "What are you two talking about?"

"Oh." Desmond had forgotten Karim was there with them, too tunnel-visioned by Ezio's arrival. "Karim, this is Ezio Auditore da Firenze, Mentor of the Italian Assassins in Roma from the future as you know." He switched to Italian. "Ezio, this is my good friend Karim Al-Nadeem."

Karim stepped forward to give a proper bow, his left hand flat to his chest to show off the missing finger and his head stooping in respect. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mentor."

Ezio returned the bow, showing off his full set of fingers which caused Karim some distress that Desmond had to explain.

"They don't have to?" Karim gaped at the men. "Then why are you missing your finger, Master?"

"Because the blade I took up was from Altair." Desmond explained. "I had no choice in the matter."

"I...see..." Karim reached for Ezio. "I'll care to his wound, but we'll have to go to Masyaf after this. He will be in need of rest and proper food."

"Yes."

Desmond pulled out some water and their other supplies.

"How long have you been out here?" Desmond asked of Ezio.

"A couple of days." Ezio replied and then frowned. "Hey...wait...I see how it is. You are anywhere and Altair and I dream of you, but me...pfft...who gives a damn?"

Desmond laughed lightly. "I had no dreams of you, but I did worry a lot."

"Bastardo."

"At least you weren't out here for too long."

"It felt like forever in this heat." Ezio grumbled. "What year am I?"

"Coming up on 1215." Desmond told the man. "What were you doing on your way here?"

"I was on a boat to the Holy Land." Ezio informed him. "I had planned on going to Masyaf to look for Altair's library, but apparently someone else had different plans."

"The library hasn't been built yet." Desmond gave Ezio an apologetic look. "Sorry, brother."

"It's fine." Ezio patted Desmond's shoulder.

"I can only do so much." Karim told Desmond as he stood. "He can receive better care in Masyaf."

"Very good. Thank you." Desmond passed Ezio a bottle of painkiller he had managed to keep from his travels in Italy. "Here."

"Thank you." Ezio sipped from it, scowling at the nasty taste. "What have you been up to?"

"Training novices and making friends." Desmond motioned to Karim. "Oh, and learning Arabic, which you'll get to do as well."

"Fantastic." Ezio grumbled, relaxing back on the ground. "Are you having fun meeting all the people from the Animus finally?"

Desmond laughed. "Malik is pretty awesome. I miss Italy though."

Karim leaned against a post, crossing his arms, and listened to them, clearly not understanding a word.

"Me too." Ezio laughed. "This place is miserable."

"It's not so bad." Desmond told him. "You'll like Masyaf."

They caught up on adventures while Karim inspected the building and its supplies before they called it a night. Ezio fell asleep quickly, exhaustion beating him into submission to sleep. Karim on the other hand had much to discuss with Desmond.

"How did he get here? Where did he come from? Why is he here? What does he want? Is he really Ezio?"

Desmond smiled at the man's barrage of questions. "You'll just have to trust me on this, Karim."

Karim sighed heavily. "Masyaf puts too much trust in foreigners claiming to be Assassins as it is."

Rolling over, Desmond faced the other man. "Ezio is a good person foremost. You can trust him to never betray our order or our secrets."

Karim stared at Desmond in silence before finally consenting to simply trust Desmond on the matter.

They gazed at one another, though they were both lost in thought, still thinking over what felt like a million things at once.

"Do you think you'll be able to love again?" Karim suddenly asked and Desmond's eyes reached the man's.

"I don't know." Desmond replied. "You?"

"I have no idea."

"Yeah..."

They ended any further attempts at conversation and tried their best to fall asleep amid those million thoughts.

* * *

The following day found the trio of Assassins on their way to Masyaf, Ezio needing several breaks along the way. The journey was fairly quick however, despite this, and they arrived around noon. They were met with suspicion, as Desmond expected, but Abbas reached them before Altair could.

"Another foreigner is given such easy access to our walls." Abbas glared at Ezio, whom was holding his wounded shoulder. "How are we to know he isn't an enemy come to steal the Apple?"

"What is he saying?" Ezio asked, causing Abbas even further alarm.

"And he cannot even speak our tongue!" Abbas shouted for all to hear.

"He's being a stronzo." Desmond muttered to Ezio, helping the Italian take a seat on a bench before turning to Abbas. "With all due respect, Abbas, will you take your drivel elsewhere? No one here cares to hear such nonsense."

"Nonsense, is it?" Abbas scoffed, glaring at Desmond. "Well, you're nothing but an outsider as well. Perhaps even a Templar spy. You're bound to think such a thing is nonsense, wishing to stay here!"

Desmond scowled. "You'll come up with any excuse to oppose Altair, even if it means resorting to lies and foolishness."

Abbas' nostrils flared as rage filled his eyes.

"What insults you toss our way!" Abbas seethed. "We have been more than hospitable to your stay here and you bring among us a stranger!"

"This is no stranger." Altair's voice rang over Abbas' as the Levantine Mentor came rushing into the courtyard. "Ezio!"

"Altair!" Ezio stood to embrace the Syrian. "It's been far too long."

"Agreed, brother." Altair quickly introduced Ezio as the Mentor of the Italian Assassins to come and then ordered for a healer. "You must be exhausted. Come. I will have a room prepared for you in the fortress."

"And we are simply supposed to accept this tale?" Abbas stopped Altair and Ezio from going any further. "We are simply supposed to obey you blindly?"

"Not blindly, Abbas." Altair argued, seriousness turning his features cold. "Not like you follow your hatred so blindly."

Abbas stepped aside at Altair's motion, but the fury in his eyes was equal to the fire of hell. Desmond instantly felt worried for their safety.

"We will set out tomorrow." He said, turning to Karim. "And finish our mission."

"This I doubt." Karim sighed. "I am sure the two Mentors will request your presence for conversation and rejoicing over your reunion once more."

Desmond stared after Ezio and Altair, a cold feeling settling over him. They looked so friendly, like long lost friends, and he wondered if others saw the same thing when they witnessed his reunion with either of the Masters.

"Then I will inform you one way or the other." Desmond stated. "Until tomorrow."

"As you wish, Master."

"Safety and peace, Karim." Desmond placed his left hand over his heart.

Karim hesitated before mimicking the gesture. "Safety and peace to you as well...Master."

* * *

Desmond awoke early the following morning to inform Karim of a change in their plans, only to discover the man had already left with a couple of younger Assassins under the guise of teaching them. He returned to the fortress to seek out Altair, hoping to share some of his concerns.

"I don't think his feelings..." Desmond deliberated over his words. "His memories of growing up and being always beneath your shadow will ever really go away."

"This case with Vahid Ahmedi isn't going to help either." Altair ran a hand over his exhausted features. "We will never gain Karim's trust like this."

"I don't think it is hopeless."

"If Abbas managed to rally some beneath him, do you believe Karim would follow him?"

Desmond groaned. "Yes."

"Than it is nearly hopeless."

Altair began to pace the length of the study, reminding Desmond of Al Mualim suddenly.

"Have you put aside the Apple lately?" Desmond asked and watched as the Mentor stiffened at the mention of the artifact. "Your sons are growing older as is your wife. I heard from some of the others how they secretly complain about not seeing you."

Altair ran another hand over his face, looking even more worn than just moments before.

"It is not your place to give me advice, Desmond."

"Yes, it is." Desmond corrected. "I may be your subordinate, but I am a fellow Assassin and foremost your friend."

"He won't listen to his wife or me, so don't think he'll listen to you." Malik said as he entered the area carrying a couple of books in his hand. "Your friend, Ezio, is it? He learns quickly."

"Like me, he knows some Arabic." Desmond commented.

"Some is correct." Malik smiled. "You too should hit the books, Desmond."

"I'll pass, but thank you, great teacher."

Malik snorted amusement. "Don't mock me, great Master."

"As you mock me." Desmond laughed lightly before returning his attention to Altair in all seriousness. "You should consider setting the artifact aside for a couple of days and enjoy the company of your family and friends."

"It is something to consider." Altair agreed, though did not make any commitment.

Malik gave Desmond an "I told you so" look, to which Desmond shrugged, silently saying, "I tried at least."

They left Altair alone to begin their studies in the garden.

"He worries me." Malik sighed. "Constantly. I fear he cannot pull his eyes from that damnable atrocity."

"He showed little to no interest in the Apple Ezio got hold of." Desmond mused, glancing up at the study windows, through which he could see Altair inspecting the Apple once more. "I wonder what it is about this one?"

"Perhaps because he had to kill the Mentor for it?" Malik guessed. "Or because he spent so much time away from it, returning to it has increased his interest in the weapon? Or perhaps he worries Abbas will take it from him and he wishes to know all of its secrets beforehand? I do not know, but it worries me greatly."

"As it does me."

* * *

Time was rushing by again, but this time Desmond was determined to make it slow down. He tried to take breaks during his days to meditate and enjoy these moments of quiet and deep thinking. He paused frequently during lessons to chat idly with Malik and Ezio. His visits with Altair became more and more frequent and desperate. Nothing was working though. It was as if a hole had been punched through the bottom of the hourglass and no matter how much sand he kept tossing into it the rest kept draining out. His worries didn't seem to bother Ezio.

"Of course time flies." Ezio shrugged as they left the room they had been studying in. "But consider yourself lucky you're among friends."

"I do feel lucky." Desmond couldn't emphasis how blessed he felt to enjoy the company of the other Assassins. "And that's why I want to enjoy it all the more."

Malik always told him he simply needed to stop worrying about it so much.

"If you stop thinking about how much time is going by," Malik advised. "You will be able to enjoy what time you have been given all the more."

Desmond wanted to follow his advice, but couldn't. Months were slipping by like minutes. Hours were mere seconds. In these days, he truly understood the theory of relativity. He enjoyed Masyaf. It was his haven of rest from the troubles of the world outside. Though he would have liked more missions and fewer lessons in Arabic, he wouldn't trade these days for anything...except for Luca.

As he finally reached the year mark of being in Masyaf, Desmond realized how terribly he missed Luca and the shock of how he was actually alone hit him. It took a whole month for him to recover again, during which time Altair quit his study of the Apple to spend more time with him. While he savored Altair's company, a part of him had hoped to spend his recovery alone, lost in his hopeless feelings and loneliness. He realized only later how good it had been for him to have company through that month.

Once himself again, he plunged into training, honing his own skills and finishing up his lessons on Arabic. His focus on his work caused time to slide on by like a greased snake and he nearly missed Karim's sudden attentiveness. They had grown rather close over the past few months, the older Assassin giving Desmond advice on his training and showing a much cooler head than Desmond recalled during their initial interactions. Despite paying attention to Karim, Desmond didn't show any explicit interest back, partially because he feared doing so and partially because he wasn't sure what Karim was truly after. Thus, he focused most on training and progressing as an Assassin. By the time he looked up from what he was doing, 1217 was just around the corner. Word of the Mongols spreading throughout Asia had reached the Levantine Assassins and Altair made plans to stop Genghis Khan, whom they were all sure had a Piece of Eden, from further advancing into the Holy Land.

"I can stay here and look over Masyaf for you." Malik encouraged Altair to go. "Take your sons and do what you were meant to do."

"I would actually prefer to remain behind." Sef commented. "I can train the recruits and maintain order in your absence, father."

"If that is what you wish..." Altair looked to his other son.

"I would be more than willing to accompany you, father." Darim bowed respectfully.

"And I'm not missing the chance to kill Khan." Ezio grinned at the annoyed looks he received. "What?"

"I will also accompany you, love." Maria gave her husband a gentle touch on the shoulder to which he smiled fondly.

"And, Desmond, you should stay..." Altair's eyes met the young Master's and he stopped speaking mid-sentence at the look he received.

"I am not staying behind on another adventure." Desmond ground out. "You can't make me."

"But..."

"Let him come along." Ezio elbowed Altair lightly.

"Oh, I see how it is." Altair scoffed at the Italian. "If we're in Italy, it's: no, no...let him stay behind because he's too much a boy still and I'll worry over him. But now we're in the Holy Land and it's: let him come along and make Altair look like the 'bad guy' like leaving him behind was all Altair's doing from beginning to end."

Darim and Sef exchanged surprised looks, having never seen their father act like this before with sarcasm dripping like poisoned honey from his lips. Ezio laughed heartily.

"There's the Altair I knew once before!" Ezio gave the Syrian a mock embrace. "I've missed you so much."

"Stronzo." Altair snapped, pushing Ezio away. "I've been here this entire time. I've merely been...busy."

"Gawking over your latest love interest like a virgin boy in a brothel."

This comment earned Ezio an elbow in his gut.

"Cazzo..." Ezio wheezed for air, reminding Desmond of how old the man had gotten since they had been in Rome together.

"You may accompany us, Desmond." Altair stated, trying to ignore how everyone in the room had their mouths covered by a hand in order to hide the smiles he knew they all wore. "We leave in a few weeks, so finish any business you wish to attend to."

The pointed look Desmond received left him wondering what subtle message Altair was trying to convey until he saw the smile on Ezio's face.

"For the forty millionth time!" Desmond hissed in Italian, so their more conservative-minded Syrian brothers couldn't understand. "There is nothing going on between Karim and I!"

"Yet." Ezio and Altair added together.

"Fuck you both."

Desmond marched out of the room, slightly red.

In the past year, even Altair had attempted to play matchmaker, fairing as badly as Ezio had when trying to hitch Desmond with Leonardo. Neither men knew much about what they were doing in their own relationships, Altair least of all. Ezio had, up until recently, sought after only the physical satisfaction of a steady relationship, keeping any emotional benefits as a bonus, while Altair was simply awkward around women in general. They didn't know what to call Desmond, though Ezio usually preferred 'dibatte idiota che non sa se preferisce tette e cazzi', much to Altair's amusement and Desmond's disgust.

Karim, whom unluckily got mixed up in this, usually ignored both Mentors simultaneously. Desmond was grateful the two older Assassins often conversed in Italian in order to keep their conversations more of a secret from their brothers. The few bits they did discuss in front of Karim in Arabic often made the Assassin furious to the point of leaving the fortress to seek refuge in the village below. On one occasion, he had left the city altogether, though had apparently only gone to the watchtower for the remainder of the day in order to cool off his head.

Desmond understood the frustration. They had so much going for them when they flirted with women, though Desmond had only seen such charisma from Altair when he looked upon his own wife, but they failed miserably when they decided they would do the flirting for their friend. Desmond had a feeling part of their failings came from trying to hook up a man with a man. They didn't understand the attraction, so they couldn't figure out the appropriate way to approach the topic.

Desmond just wished they'd stop trying as it would make being around Karim a little easier. The way they tried so hard, reminded him more about how alone he was, which in turn brought his thoughts back to Luca. Even after all of this time, he wasn't sure he wanted to move on yet or at all. In a way, it felt like a betrayal to Luca's memory as if seeking comfort from another was insulting to the one he had loved before.

It was a topic he brought up with Karim only a couple of nights after the plans had been made to oppose the Mongols.

Karim thought on the question hard, brows furrowed deeply as his brilliant green eyes studied the mountain range around them. They were atop one of the towers' roofs, enjoying the night air and the relief it provided from the harsh sun of the day.

"I don't know." Karim finally answered. "Yes, probably."

"So then it isn't right?"

Karim frowned. "They're dead, Desmond. _He_ is dead. He can't tell you what to do with your life."

This did not comfort Desmond. "But...it'd be wrong...then, right?"

"I suppose." Karim didn't seem like he liked this line of thinking. "If it feels wrong than it probably is."

"Ugh...not what I wanted to hear."

Karim almost smiled at this. "Did you want me to tell you what you wanted to hear?"

"No..." Desmond grumbled, though he wasn't sure if he was lying or not.

"Look, Master." Karim shifted so he faced the younger man better. "It is probably wrong to seek comfort from another if you so strongly cared for the first, not because it is an insult, which it probably is, to the one who has passed, but because you insult the one who you are now seeking comfort from. If your memories are too deeply embedded still in a past interest than you cannot dedicate all of you to the one you now hold. This is most unfair to the new love."

"Than there is a lot of unfair love out there."

"Yes, there is." Karim nodded. "But we survive it. We trek through it. It is in our nature to seek comfort. We as a whole cannot stand the thought of being alone. Love is a name for these feelings or perhaps it is more carnal than that. Regardless, we seek it. Even if it is a ruined and fragmented comfort we receive, we will accept it openly and freely and bare through the consequences."

Desmond stared at the other man with a slight hint of admiration. "So then it would probably be best for two ruined people to find another and let the unbroken..."

"Break each other?" Karim joked and they laughed though they both knew the seriousness of his statement.

"Karim," Desmond finally said to break the following lull in the conversation. "If we..."

"I do not think it wise for us to comfort one another."

"I don't necessarily think it wise either." Desmond tossed in, hoping he hid his disappointment well enough beneath his quick jest. "But perhaps we can lick each other's wounds for a short while. It wouldn't be unpleasant."

Karim's eyes found Desmond's, piercing the gold with lush green. "Are you suggesting we keep it mutual, no emotions attached?"

"I don't honestly know if I can feel for anyone the way I felt for Luca." Desmond admitted. "And I think you feel the same about Vahid."

Karim's gaze dropping proved Desmond's words true.

"We are broken and we almost want to stay that way." Desmond sort of laughed. "But we also don't want to be alone. If we were to...comfort one another without expectations then perhaps we can mend ourselves."

Green met gold again.

"This is a horrible idea." Karim muttered, but he pulled down the cloth cover his scarred mouth anyways.

* * *

Desmond spent the next few weeks in foolish bitter bliss and most of it was in Karim's presence. As they had planned, their relationship was nothing more than a release of tension and a mending of old wounds, but with these good perks came a lot of bad. Forgotten memories resurfaced. For Desmond it was worse. Karim had never been physical with Vahid, so no ghostly touches and sweet Italian whispers made phantom appearances during their time together in the dark of night. As for Desmond, he found he took some of his pent frustrations out in those moments when he could bare them no longer. Like a true soldier, Karim bore through it, even fought back. The bite mark swelling on Desmond's shoulder and the bruises lining his rib cage was proof enough of Karim's own vicious tendencies. There was definitely something more carnal about these nights than the one Desmond could recall spent with Luca. There had been sweetness and pleasant warmth shared between him and the Italian. With Karim, there was passion and fire, but it all tasted of blood and sweat. At some point, all Desmond had seen was red before realizing he needed to stop this madness. Words shared with Karim resulted in further embraces as neither was ready to let the other go just yet.

The interaction did not go unnoticed by Altair, whom, despite nearly always being too absorbed in studying the Apple, took great concern in their abuse of one another. He ordered them to stop after finding scratches clawed into Karim's neck. They didn't. They were simply more careful of one another, trying to keep the wounds to a minimum. This drew the attention of Ezio, not liking their sneaking off to even more secluded spots.

"One of you is going to kill the other and I'm afraid Karim will win, Desmond."

"It's really none of your business."

"It is when you're getting hurt."

"I'm fine."

"This is wrong."

"Stop trying to tell me how to lead my life! And this is personal. Stay out of it!"

They did tone it down, the tensions finally gone and the memories beginning to fade. After this many years and so many new embraces with Karim, Desmond couldn't even recall what Luca's touch felt like anymore. As he held Karim more, he realized how easy it was to forget such short exchanges of love. The fragility of it all made him more cautious around Karim, for which the older Assassin was grateful.

"You are more deeply scarred than I." Karim told Desmond as they lay together in a hay stack staring up at the fortress above. "Your healing is many tiered. Mine? Not so much."

Desmond was surprised by how understanding Karim was about the whole ordeal and relaxed considerably.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled.

"You don't have to apologize. We knew it would be rough and there are no expectations."

By this point, Desmond had begun to wish for expectations. Though his feelings for Luca were still there, Karim's offered comfort and warmth was fresh in his mind and enticing. He was glad he would be leaving soon, hoping the journey would clear his mind and help him focus on what he truly wanted.

"Will you stay here?" Desmond asked, though he already knew the answer.

"It is my place." Karim replied as expected. "I will remain and assist Malik and Sef in anyway I can."

"Do you think...Abbas..."

"He would be a fool to try anything."

"Well..."

"You're such an ass."

Desmond smiled, always amused when Karim cursed since he did it so rarely.

"I think I might actually miss you while I'm away."

Karim snorted, unbelieving. "If you return alive, you can tell me if that is true."

"I will." Desmond buried his face into the man's hair and breathed in the scent of it. "Mmm...Karim..."

"Don't." Karim seemed to always know when Desmond was going to say something he shouldn't. "You'll ruin everything we've done up until this point. Just leave tomorrow with the others and heal from the wounds I just gave you. I know I'm going to be on the mend for what you've done to me."

"I didn't mean to be so vi..."

"It isn't anything physical, which plagues me."

Desmond pulled away to look at the green eyes staring up at him, trying to read the unspoken words hidden within them.

"Karim..."

"I said to not." Karim's tone had grown chilly and Desmond knew now was the time to quit while he was ahead.

"I'm not going to go back to the fortress tonight." Desmond rested back into the hay. "Will you stay with me?"

"If it is what you wish."

"What is it you wish?"

"I don't want to think about that right now."

Desmond pulled Karim close and hid his frown in the other man's hair.

"I will leave in the morning." Desmond mumbled. "Don't see me off."

"I won't."

"Okay. Good. Thank you."

"Of course, Master."

Desmond didn't sleep that night.

* * *

**A bit short. A bit violent. Couldn't think of any other way to end this chapter, so we'll leave it at that. I don't think I'll have time to get another update out, but I'll at least start on it, so I can post earlier than tonight. Hope you continue to enjoy the series.**

* * *

Desmond was happy and excited to be on the road again. Ezio and Altair were arguing within only minutes. Darim and Maria discussed life while Desmond watched the interactions with a smile on his face. It felt so normal all of a sudden as if this was what his life was supposed to be like.

"You seem better." Ezio commented as they set up camp that night.

"I am."

Ezio pulled Desmond aside. "I think getting away from...Karim...was a good thing."

"Probably." Desmond didn't feel like arguing. He faced an approaching Altair. "Hey, what is our plan anyways?"

"We will ideally make contact with the Mongolian Assassins." Altair informed them. "And then work on defeating Khan before his power grows any stronger. It is a long harsh journey into Asia. It will be years, no doubt, before we return."

"I assumed as much."

Desmond hadn't and instantly wondered if maybe he _should_ have stayed behind.

"Don't dwell on it too long." Altair patted Desmond's back reassuringly. "Tomorrow is a long day. Rest while you can."

* * *

The days of travel ticked by and flowed into weeks then months as they traveled through what would later become Syria, Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, Pakistan, and China. The trek was slow. Harsh deserts, rugged mountains, unexplored jungles and forests, untamed wilderness, and hostile natives stood between them and their destination. Over three thousand miles was flattened beneath their feet before one cold night after a year of travel and getting lost they awoke to find themselves surrounded by a group of men in white with fur-lined hoods. They nearly blended with the snow and black rocks of their surroundings, but the keen eyes of the two Mentors and Desmond latched onto their faces instantly.

They had been discovered by the Mongolian Assassins.

Thankfully, they were able to identify one another as allies, but there was a large wall standing between them and communicating further: they didn't speak the same language. This barrier didn't hinder the Mongolians from accepting the group and leading them to the safety of their Order, hidden deep in the mountains. Over the next few months, the group learned from the Mongolians their style of fighting and free-running while also searching for a translator and attempting to learn the Mongolian language. It took time for someone to be found, during which Desmond felt he improved immensely and found one of the young women living among the Assassins calling herself Enkhtuyaa seemed to take a fancy to him. Though he knew it was wrong, he began to spend time with her, ignoring the customs of the time and place he was living in. It turned badly when Qulan Gal, the Assassin overseeing them, decided the best way to teach Desmond a lesson about courtesy to their customs was to get in a fist fight with him and win. Slightly humiliated, Desmond gave up pursuing Enkhtuyaa, not that he needed too since she left along with several of the other women come spring, by which time a translator had been found.

Altair explained their purpose for being in Mongolia and Qulan Gal explained the difficulty in keeping up with the Mongol Army without getting caught. Khan was constantly moving his troops and conquering lands as quickly as a cheetah hunting prey. They would have to stalk him, discover his plans, and hopefully catch him before his reach spread too far.

The following years felt like a blur. Most of the days were spent in the wilds, learning to hunt and fish and live off of the land while tracking their main prey: Genghis Khan. Altair fared far better learning these skills than either Ezio or Desmond, the latter of whom felt like he would never master the art. During this time, Altair and Ezio bickered more, causing Desmond to begin referring to them as the 'Old Married Couple', much to both Mentors' chagrin and Maria and Darim's amusement. Though they joked about age constantly, Desmond was beginning to get nervous. Ezio already looked old and Altair was clearly aging. His hair skipped gray and went straight to white. Wrinkles formed around his features. His hands shook in the morning when he went to draw his bow. Meanwhile, Desmond remained the same, youthful despite the years he had seen and endured with both Mentors. He felt like he should be climbing up the age ladder along with them, but nothing about him changed. Ezio made frequent comments about how old Desmond's eyes looked, but he tried to ignore these words, not liking the idea of aging any more than his fellow Assassins.

Finally, they managed to track down Genghis Khan to one of his encampments in the year 1227, ten years after setting off from Masyaf. Their plan was not a particularly good one, but they would have to make it work as they could not waste any more years trying to kill the man. Desmond crossed his fingers and prayed the night before they would attack.

* * *

Altair let out a shout as the arrow drove into his leg and he gripped the wound in momentary shock and pain before collecting himself and hollering to his comrades. It was too late. Across the encampment he could see Genghis rush from his tent and mount his horse, preparing to flee.

"Hurry!" Altair shouted at Ezio, whom had already took off running towards where they had stationed Darim and Qulan Gal in case of trouble.

Desmond released an arrow, killing one of the approaching Mongolian soldiers, before drawing his blade. Within only minutes he had killed off the attacking soldiers descending upon Altair.

"Thank you, brother." Altair reached for the hand Desmond offered, but then clung to Desmond for support.

"What happened?" Desmond asked as he pulled Altair's arm around him to better support the man's weight.

"Age." Altair muttered.

Desmond wasn't surprised. Altair hadn't aged as gracefully as Ezio. In a weird way, it was almost as if one day Altair had woken up and he was suddenly old. They exited the camp, deciding to worry about their companions after getting themselves to safety. They reached the top of the hill overlooking the camp with its now panicked residents and Desmond slowly helped Altair to sit.

"I can remove the arrow." Desmond stated.

"No." Altair held out a hand. "Leave it in. We can have it removed later...ugh...when we are in a better spot."

"Altair!" Maria rushed up to them to kneel beside her husband. "What happened?"

"It's fine." Altair smiled at her. "I will be fine...but I am now seriously considering retiring active duty."

"It's about time." Darim said as he, Qulan Gal, and Ezio reached them. "It is done."

"And you should have seen the arrows these two men let loose!" Ezio laughed, patting Darim on the back as pride filled his features. "Qulan shot the horse. Darim shot the man. You have an incredible son, Altair, not unlike his father."

"Are you actually complimenting me?" Altair asked in awe.

"Well, it can happen." Ezio replied dryly. "But I was more complimenting your son. I think he takes most after your wife."

"I hate you."

"We go." Qulan Gal said in his fragmented Arabic. "Now."

"Right."

Altair stood, this time taking the aid of Ezio as well, and the group abandoned the chaos below, overjoyed at their success after all of these years.

"It'll be good to return home." Darim commented. "I wonder how Sef fares and Malik as well."

Desmond's mind turned to Karim and he realized he hadn't been worrying himself over the man in the least during his absence. He wondered if Karim had similarly forgotten him, but then he let his mind wander back to the conversation at hand.

"I'm sure they're well." Ezio snorted. "At least, Sef has been getting _it_ regularly."

"You are such a lech." Altair grumbled, hitting Ezio over the head with his hand.

"Are you sure Darim and Sef came from Altair's loins?" Ezio called to Maria. "Because he sure acts like a virgin sometimes."

"You stronzo!" Altair snarled, removing his arm from around Ezio's shoulders to shove the man away. "I don't need your help! Go pester someone else!"

"You should be sweeter to your husband, honey." Maria joked, causing everyone else, including Qulan Gal who rarely understood what they were saying, to laugh.

"You can all rot..." Altair chuckled despite his anger. "Every single one of you."

For Desmond, it wasn't where he was, but who he was with that told him he was home and right now he was.

* * *

Desmond rushed forward to help Altair bring Malik into the old house of Sef a year after the death of Genghis Khan.

"What happened?" Desmond asked.

"We've been betrayed." Altair snarled and Desmond's eyes searched those of the Mentor at hearing such venom. "Tend to him. I am sending a letter to Darim and Ezio in Alamut."

"Why?" Desmond asked as he reached for a jug containing water to pour into a bowl.

"Sef is dead." Altair's words caused Maria, whom had just entered the room, to freeze. "Killed by order of Abbas and Malik was framed for it."

"What?" Maria whispered, resting a hand on the wall. "How can this be?"

Altair didn't answer as he quickly finished writing his letter and left the home to find a courier.

"Maria." Desmond called to the woman. "Bring me bandages."

It took a moment for her to respond and do as she was told. When she returned to his side, tears were streaming down her cheeks, though she did not outright cry.

Altair returned. "Desmond. When you can, get Malik to Alamut. Maria and I will confront Abbas about this treachery."

"If you are sure..."

"I am." Altair encouraged before facing his wife. "Dawn has already come. We should hurry."

"Good luck." Desmond told them. "And...safety and peace, brother."

"To you as well." Altair bowed to Desmond before leaving the house with his wife.

"Desmond..." Malik croaked after a few minutes. "We...should...accompany...them..."

"No." Desmond shook his head. "I am going to carry you. I have a bad feeling about this."

"Do you?"

Desmond turned to the voice, flicking out his hidden blade in the process.

Swami, one of Abbas' loyal followers, stood in the entrance, sword drawn.

"Come to kill us?" Desmond asked, mostly to stall while he worked out a plan.

"Yes."

Swami didn't give him much time before striking and the dual quickly led outside.

"And they call you a Master?" Swami taunted, clashing blade against blade. "You can barely stand against me."

"I am merely giving you a chance to rethink your actions and change your mind." Desmond replied coolly. "But if you would prefer to end this quickly..."

"You're as worthless as the man you follow so blindly!" Swami snapped.

"This coming from the blind following Abbas!" Desmond blocked another blow and ducked away from a second. "Surrender, Swami!"

"I hear Sef was your favorite of the two brothers." Swami snorted, a smile on his face. "That worthless little coward. I told him when I killed him Altair himself had given the Order and he died believing his father had betrayed him!"

Desmond saw red in the next instant before rushing inside to collect Malik.

"I do not know who heard that." He said as he gingerly picked up the man, whom was gaunt and frail in Desmond's arms. It was like carrying a small child instead of a full grown man. "But I am sure we will meet enemies if we stay for too much longer."

"Desmond..." Malik's eyes lolled around and found the corpse of Swami in the street. "Oh...no..."

"Worry not of it, brother." Desmond hissed. "He has met his justice by his own choice. He killed Sef and no doubt carried out framing you as well."

"Revenge is never the answer..." Malik whispered weakly. "Desmond...I don't think...I'll make it...to Alamut."

"Don't be so cynical." Desmond argued. "Sarcasm is good though."

Malik chuckled and then coughed into Desmond's chest. "I am glad to be with you...brother...in these final hours."

He didn't speak again as Desmond carried the man towards Alamut. By noon on the road he was met by Ezio and Darim, whom had received Altair's letter.

"I will meet with my father." Darim insisted. "Ezio, you should assist Desmond and Malik."

"Please." Desmond sighed as he lay Malik on the ground. He checked for a pulse and was relieved the man still had one.

Ezio said nothing as he took up the charge of carrying the man. There was no doubt in Desmond's mind that Ezio was having a hard time dealing with this sudden turn of events. They finished their journey to Alamut in silence.

* * *

Arrival in Alamut was met with healers and Karim, whom gave Desmond an update of what had been going on. Abbas had taken control, setting up a new Order under his command, and he had imprisoned Malik under the guise of being the murderer of Sef.

"Many of us did not believe him and we stood against him." Karim informed him. "But not wanting to shed innocent blood we had no other choice except to retreat to Alamut. We've been planning a way to seize the fortress from Abbas, but it is a difficult city to take by force."

"Altair should have killed him all those years ago." Desmond snarled, wanting to strangle something.

"It is because he granted Abbas mercy so many were willing to follow him as Mentor." Karim explained.

"An innocent has died at the hands of Abbas!" Desmond argued. "Or at his command. How many more must die before Abbas is stopped? We are Assassins. We should not stand idly by even if one of our own is the traitor."

"Do you then think we stood idly by to Al Mualim's betrayal?" Karim asked, crossing his arms. "Did not Altair and Malik and those loyal to them and the Order stand against him?"

Desmond sighed, irritated, but not beyond reason. "But he was a Templar. It was easier to accept him as an enemy. Perhaps, because Abbas still claims to be an Assassin and stand by the Creed..."

"He does not follow the Creed." Karim scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. "Not any longer...not if he is willing to kill an innocent and have another innocent imprisoned."

"Well, that at least is good to hear from you." Desmond groaned as he took a seat. "I had thought perhaps you were still siding with the man."

"How lowly you think of me." Karim growled.

Desmond stood again, too antsy to rest for long. "I wonder how Altair fairs...I wonder if Abbas has been removed from power."

"I am sure these answers will come soon. There is no point in getting yourself worked up over it. Idiot."

Desmond paused in front of Karim and finally gave in to the tension he had been feeling since laying eyes on the man. His hands came up around Karim's head and pulled him into a kiss, grateful the man had given up wearing the mouth covering. He was also grateful when the caress was returned and soon he found himself pinned against the wall with a hip pressing into his groin.

The passion ended too quickly as Karim pulled away, covering his mouth and looking immensely ashamed.

"I am sorry, Master." Karim apologized while Desmond tried to reorient himself. "I shouldn't have."

"Why?" Desmond managed to rasp, still in a daze.

"I am married."

Desmond's chest ached instantly.

"With a daughter and a son."

Slowly, Desmond nodded, but he refused to meet the gaze of the other man.

"It has been eleven years." He said, trying to act as if he had been unaffected by this news, though he knew he failed miserably. "It makes sense. My thoughts weren't exactly faithful while in Mongolia."

"Faithful?" Karim choked. "We had no expectations. We made this clear from the beginning."

"Yes..." Desmond didn't feel like it had really been all that clear, but there was no point in arguing now. "You're right. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed."

"All is forgiven." Karim responded, accepting the apology quickly. "The gates...are opening. I believe our Mentor has arrived. We should greet him."

Desmond nodded, but said nothing as he let Karim lead him out of the room they had been in.

He blacked out shortly afterwards.

* * *

It was the wind which woke Desmond and he gasped for air once he realized how cold it was all around him. Sitting up, he glanced around and recognized to his wonder the cold stone of a Masyaf prison cell. He stood, shaking uncontrollably from the chill encasing him. He knew it had to be winter, but it had been late summer when he had last been in Alamut with Karim. Wandering to the window, he glanced out and saw white as if he was in the loading screen of the Animus when it was changing to a new destination.

Shouting echoed down the halls and he rushed to the gate.

"Hey!" He shouted into the fortress. "Can anyone hear me? Is anyone there?"

Footsteps rushed towards him and he was surprised to see Ezio, but not nearly as surprised as the Italian was to see him.

"Desmond?" Ezio gawked at him. "What are you doing here?"

"I don't know." Desmond shrugged. "What's going on? Where's Altair?"

"I don't know where he is." Ezio corrected. "You're back in the Sixteenth Century."

"What?" Desmond gaped at the man, suddenly realizing the Italian's shock. "W-where's the key? Get me out of this cell and you can explain."

Ezio rushed around the prison until he found the key and then quickly bailed Desmond out of the cell.

"Explain!" Desmond said as he followed Ezio out into the blizzard.

"Altair returned to Alamut, but before I could reach him, I blacked out." Ezio replied.

"Same here."

"After that I awoke on the ship I had been sailing to Masyaf on." Ezio continued, killing a few men Desmond assumed were Templars while Desmond, unarmed, merely took their weapons to use for himself. "I came to Masyaf only to find it overrun with Templars as you can see."

"Fantastic." Desmond grumbled. "Then what?"

"I was outnumbered and I'm fucking old." Ezio laughed, but the mirth Desmond had known while they spent their time across Asia with Altair had left the man's voice, which was now as biting and cold as the wind tugging mercilessly at their clothes. "They managed to defeat me and were going to hang me, but I escaped...am escaping. You?"

"I just woke up!"

"Why is that always happening to you?"

"I keep wondering that myself."

They made their way out of the fortress, using a couple of Ezio's parachutes in the process, and then found themselves on a crazy carriage ride after the leading Templar whom they had learned possessed the book containing information on keys needed to get into the library.

"Could really use Altair's help right now." Ezio muttered as he and Desmond made their way into the village the Templars were hiding in.

It didn't take long to defeat the man, whom gave Desmond a strong impression of Robert de Sable, and then they set off for Constantinople.

"You're really going to have to fill me in on the details, Ezio." Desmond groaned, rolling his shoulder to ease the ache there. "I'm lost."

"What else is new?" Ezio grinned, but he seemed like he wanted to just pass out. Considering how old Ezio looked, it was amazing to Desmond the amount of physical activity he could push himself through.

"Let's just get to Constantinople already." Desmond sighed, ready to crash as well.

He really wished his life would keep jumping around.

* * *

Desmond stood in awe at the bow of the boat as Constantinople came into view. He was amazed at how much his journeys let him see, though he rarely got the chance to relish the beauty and wonder of his surroundings. Had he never been kidnapped by Abstergo, he knew he would have never seen such amazing constructs nor even really appreciated them until he had lived through the eyes of Ezio Auditore trying so hard to rebuild Monteriggioni and then Rome. As he watched the approaching walls, Ezio made conversation with a young scholar. Typical of Desmond, he paid little attention to their conversation and instead wondered what sort of adventures would await him on the journey ahead.

He turned to get ready to disembark and found himself instead running straight into a woman with dark auburn hair and wearing a green dress. What she was holding fell to the deck and he instantly bent to pick it up for her as apologies fell from his lips and Ezio tried not to laugh at him.

"It's quite all right." She smiled pleasantly at him as she took her belongings. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He mumbled sheepishly before excusing himself and heading below decks to gather up the few belongings he and Ezio had brought with them from Masyaf.

Once beside Ezio again, he muttered Italian curses into his friend's ear, causing Ezio to snicker.

"You and her had some...what did you call it...chemistry going on there." Ezio whispered back teasingly. "She's a fine woman."

"You should go for her, Mr. I'm-Old-And-Still-Single."

"Ouch." Ezio laughed outright. "Maybe...but...no. We have a mission and the last thing I need to do is involve some innocent and beautiful young woman."

Desmond's brow rose. "Beautiful? I think you're the one interested, Ezio."

Ezio grinned at Desmond. "I keep forgetting you have different interests in people."

Desmond scowled. "Keep that more a secret than you've been, will you? The Ottoman Empire is in power here. They don't even permit prostitution here. How do you think they view that?"

"Good point."

"The ship is nearly secure!" The Captain called to his waiting passengers. "When the ramp is down you may disembark!"

"Finally." Desmond sighed. "I don't like boats."

"A few weeks of seasickness is good for a man." Ezio patted his back roughly. "Shapes him into something better, stronger!"

"Faster...harder..." Desmond's low response caused Ezio to snort out a laugh. "God, I missed picking on you. With Altair around, you two were able to keep up the banter on your own. Any insertion from me seemed lame in comparison."

"I am glad we are together on this quest, brother." Ezio's hand found Desmond's shoulder again.

"Ah, he is your brother." The scholar said, approaching them again. "I was wondering at the familiarity between your faces. If you were younger, my friend, you could almost pass as him!"

Ezio glanced at Desmond and they both refrained from laughing at the inside joke they shared. Desmond _had_ passed as Ezio before.

"You may disembark!" The Captain informed them as the ramp was set in place.

"Here goes nothing." Desmond said and the passengers began to file off of the ship while he crossed his fingers again for luck.

* * *

Ezio spun around at the hand to roughly grab his shoulder and Desmond subconsciously flicked out his hidden blade. The vibrant personality to greet them caused Desmond instantly to smile.

"Come Mentor da Firenze and Master Miles." Yusuf encouraged them. "I will show you around."

They followed him, letting him explain the city and the troubles it faced as they took in the sights and culture. Desmond felt like he was back in Masyaf, only everyone seemed more colorful, even the guards. For once, the guards actually turned out to be worth something as they took off after the Byzantine Templars when said Templars tried to attack the three Assassins, leaving the Assassins to carry on their journey to the Ottoman Assassin headquarters.

Both the Italian and Desmond coughed the moment they entered the headquarters at the heavy incense and smoke from multiple hookahs which polluted the air.

"Oh, god..." Desmond rubbed at the tears coming from his eyes. "This is new..."

Yusuf laughed at them as he encouraged them forward. "Come, brothers. You are not so delicate, are you?"

"I am." Desmond argued with a laugh as he recalled his trips to the brothels, which he swore would have led to his death from the aroma. This was a completely different feeling as the smoke burned his eyes and nostrils and tickled the inside of his throat. "But carry on."

Yusuf patted his back. "Perhaps you should wait outside, Master, if you are too fragile for our prestigious headquarters."

Ezio stifled a chuckle as Desmond again encouraged the Ottoman to carry on.

"As you wish."

Yusuf led them along the short bridge to the main room of the headquarters where several Assassins were seated at a table, reading or drinking.

"Such mild behavior comparative to Roma." Desmond mumbled into Ezio's ear and the Italian nodded as they both recalled how loud and obnoxious their Italian brothers could be.

"Mentor and Master," Yusuf said as he approached the table. "Say hello to your extended family."

A brief introduction later and Yusuf had already ordered his men away to investigate the ambush. Desmond's respect for the man seemed to keep increasing.

"You both are armed pitifully." Yusuf said, inspecting them. Desmond imagined he seemed the least armed since he was wearing the limited arms of the Levantine Assassins while Ezio still wore his Italian robes and accompanying armor. "Get some money and I will point you towards a blacksmith...he's a friend."

Ezio grinned at Desmond. "Pickpocketing: your favorite."

"Wonderful." Desmond sighed as they left the headquarters to meander the streets in search of heavy purses easy to snag.

The Master quickly found he was still a poor pickpocket after several attempts resulting in long runs around the city, during which he accidentally ran into one of the Assassins.

"Causing us trouble, Master?" The man joked from behind his mask. "Did you need help?"

"I'm a poor pickpocket." Desmond admitted, pulling himself up onto the roof where the Turkish Assassin stood. "The Thieves used to make fun of me."

"They still do, I'm sure."

Desmond scowled slightly as he took his seat on the edge of the building with his legs dangling over. He was slightly surprised when the other Assassin joined him.

"What is your name?" Desmond asked, glancing at the other Assassin.

"Kasim."

Desmond resisted frowning at how close the name was to Karim.

"Just Kasim?"

"Just Kasim." The man nodded. "You will find many of the Assassins are single-named as many of us are orphans with only the headquarters to call home."

"I am sorry."

"Do not feel sorry." Kasim corrected. "Your pity will only insult us. It means we have not risen above the troubles we have faced in the past."

"I understand."

"Did you need help?"

"Probably." Desmond laughed bitterly.

"Dogan and I will help you."

Desmond looked up, surprised to see another masked Assassin was standing not too far away.

"We will make this quick." Kasim rose from his seat. "Remain here."

"I have no where else to be." Desmond told them and watched as they left the rooftop to swiftly disappear into the crowds.

It wasn't long before they returned with far more money than he needed. He imparted the extra to them and thanked them for their help.

"We have our own business to attend to." Kasim informed him. "It is an honor to have you here with us, Master, and we look forward to working with you further."

"Hopefully I'll actually be of use in the future." Desmond replied and he wondered if they found him even a little amusing. Their masks made it impossible to tell.

They dismissed themselves with bows and he watched them leave again before setting out in search of Ezio.

"And here I thought I would have to get your share as well." Ezio snickered.

"Don't praise me yet." Desmond groaned. "I got help."

Ezio laughed outright. "You are such a pathetic thief."

"Don't rub it in."

They finished their business at the blacksmith before returning to the headquarters only to find Yusuf and a group of Assassins gathered outside of it.

"Praise the heavens!" Yusuf said mockingly as he approached. "We feared we had lost our Mentor and new Master to the vices of the big city."

Desmond flushed slightly, wondering if Yusuf had already received word of his terrible pickpocketing skills.

As Ezio and Yusuf discussed the Templar rule, Desmond glanced around at the group of Assassins, his experience as a trainer to both the Italian and Levantine Assassins guiding him in his search for the more remarkable individuals. Most were definitely capable with only a couple bringing worry to him at the sight of the heavier weapons they seemed to prefer. He wondered if this was normal now within the Assassin Orders as restrictions were less and less applied to the way they chose to fight and kill.

"Ezio?" Yusuf's tone caused Desmond to face the two men again. "Where is your hookblade?"

"My hookblade?" Ezio asked in confusion to which Yusuf's response was to flick out the blade on his right arm, which was exactly as it sounded like: a blade ending in a hook.

"You've never seen one?" Yusuf was looking at the two Assassins as if they were idiots. "I grew up using this."

A motion to the surrounding Assassins and Yusuf had procured two of the devices to pass to the curious men.

"Hmmm..." Ezio said as he put the weapon on in place of his ruined second blade. "Show me how it works."

Yusuf quickly led the two men away. "Watch and learn. We call this a hook and run."

Rushing one of the Assassins whom had already gotten herself into place, Yusuf hooked onto the her person and rolled over the top of her.

Desmond instantly laughed, though he hadn't meant to.

"This is funny?" Yusuf asked with a smile, but his eyes were uncertain.

"No." Desmond shook his head quickly. "_This_ is incredible. What is funny is you expect me to learn it."

Yusuf laughed, ease returning to his features.

"If we can teach it to Ezio, we can teach it to you." Yusuf guaranteed.

"Ezio is amazing." Desmond argued. "He can learn anything."

Rolling his eyes, Ezio also reassured the Master. "Desmond, you have received far more training than any Assassin I have had the privilege of meeting and you have also learned and excelled at everything...with perhaps the exception of pickpocketing."

"You are not a good pickpocket?" Yusuf's brow rose and his eyes lit up at the challenge. "Fear not any longer, Master Miles, we will teach you."

"Oh, no...I'm really all right..." Desmond held up his hands.

"A good Assassin cannot become great until he learns the fundamentals and being a pickpocket is one of those fundamentals." Yusuf's words hit home and Desmond consented without further argument. "Good. I will have Dogan, Azize, and Kasim teach you...not all at once, but over time. They will be the best of the teachers in this area."

"I have met Dogan and Kasim." Desmond tried to ignore Ezio's quirked brow at hearing the almost familiar name. "They helped me earlier."

"These three are Masters, like you." Yusuf informed Desmond. "But they still have much to learn. Perhaps, you can teach each other."

"It would be an honor." Desmond bowed in respect. "Now...let's see about this hookblade business."

It didn't take long for the foreign Assassins to decide they quite liked the new addition to their armory, in particular during free-running.

"Fantastic." Desmond said once they reached the top of the Galata Tower. "I love this thing!"

Yusuf laughed. "I knew you would, brother."

They stared out at the city for a few moments and Desmond smiled as he recalled he would have never gotten to experience this had he remained a bartender in New York. Though being abducted by Abstergo and forced onto this wild adventure had many downfalls, he certainly saw a lot of perks as well.

"I'm home again." Desmond mumbled to himself, though he didn't miss Ezio's smile in response to the words.

It was true though. He was home again.

* * *

"I am impressed, Yusuf." Ezio said as soon as they were on the ground again. "My brothers in Roma would like this."

Desmond snorted. "And would get themselves in sooo much trouble."

Ezio chuckled.

"Just give credit where it is due." Yusuf stated.

Abruptly a masked Assassin wearing a light aqua-colored sash around his waist approached, shouting to them.

"An attack on two fronts!" The Assassin said quickly. "Galata and the Grand Bazaar!"

Yusuf instantly looked irritated. "Everyday the same bad news."

The masked Assassin straightened and Desmond wondered if he took note of the foreigners as well.

"How is your appetite for sword play?" Yusuf asked, turning towards them.

"I do what I must." Ezio replied.

"I would love to." Desmond answered, trying to keep his excitement down.

"Good."

Yusuf followed the masked Assassin up onto a roof and the others tailed them only to discover a zipline awaiting them. The masked Assassin immediately took to it with his hookblade and Desmond turned to Ezio. They were both grinning.

A couple of practice uses and a new style of assassination and they both openly admitted their love for ziplines.

"You have to pay to do this where I come from." Desmond told Ezio. "This is ridiculously awesome."

"It's good you believe so." Ezio nodded, smiling at Desmond.

Yusuf informed them of what happens when the Templars do take over a den and Desmond agreed it was almost exactly like retaking a tower the Borgia had under control.

"Less explosives." Ezio stated.

"True."

"Yusuf," Ezio turned to the man. "You create a distraction and we will take the tower."

Three Assassins joined them, two masked and one a woman. It didn't take long for them to annihilate the guards on the rooftops. It took Desmond and Ezio just as little time to finish off the Templar Captain and some of his men before lighting the tower.

As Desmond stood at the top of the tower waiting for Ezio to leap down to the streets again, he felt a headache coming on.

Abruptly, what felt like a shock wave went off in his head, rattling his bones and causing him to grip onto the railing as well as his forehead. Voices echoed ethereal and loudly around him.

"_Is he going to be all right?_" The voice shattered his eardrums, leaving them ringing.

"_We don't know._" Came the deafening response, but he couldn't block it out.

"_We're seeing a lot of brain activity, but...we're not sure..._" The words shredded into him, ripping at his brain.

"_What's the plan?_"

"_We're chartering a private jet or at least that's what we're hoping to do. Abstergo can't block off everything, but they may be able to pay to get what they want._"

"_Bloody hell._" The harshness in the voice snapped all the way to his bones, breaking them, he was sure.

"_Hey, it could be worse, Shaun._"

"_And how's that, Rebecca? We're trapped with Abstergo all around us and our only escape is to get up into the air and leave the country, but they might block that out too. How could it be worse, huh? How?_"

By the end of the spiel, Desmond was positive not a bone in his body wasn't broken and not a single one of his muscles hadn't been torn apart.

"_Calm down, Mr. Hastings. We'll get out of this yet. I have faith in our members who are working on ensuring our departure. They'll be successful. Just focus on keeping Desmond alive._"

"_Right. Right...of course. I'm sorry, Miles._"

"_It's quite all right. Let's just try to make it through this with relative calm. Our arguing can't be good for Desmond._"

"_No. His brain waves have spiked a little._"

"_Let's just not talk if we can help it._"

The ringing died down and Desmond's eyes began to focus on his surroundings a little. He could see the tower above him, an eagle circling overhead, and blurry faces beginning to lean over him as incoherent speech blotched in and out of hearing. Someone was shaking him. Hands began to grapple onto him. Darkness edged onto his vision and he kept staring up above at the tower, hoping someone would save him.

He wasn't sure if he was simply deluded by the experience or if what he saw was truly there, but he swore Altair was at the top of the tower staring down at him, clear as bleached white. Golden eyes seemed to stand out even at this distance and the words, "Hang on, brother" slid across his ears.

He passed out shortly afterwards.


	8. Renovamen

Chapter Eight: _Renovamen_

"Did it hurt?" Altair whispered and Desmond looked up, surprised to see the man standing some distance away from him.

He looked around, taking in the surroundings he had never seen before. Endless sea and consistent fog surrounded a small island with tiny beaches, rocks, grass, and odd blackish towers of stone. His eyes returned to Altair.

"What's going on?" Desmond asked. "Am I in the Animus?"

"Yes."

The new voice spun Desmond around to stare at the blond man approaching him.

"And no."

"What?" Desmond backed up towards Altair. "Who are you?"

"You don't know?" The man asked, smiling and Desmond instantly felt the man probably belonged in an asylum. "Well, that's a shame. That's a real shame."

"Desmond."

Desmond faced Altair again, standing much closer now.

"What's going on?" Desmond asked of the Syrian.

"I don't know." Altair replied. "You had left...it's been a couple of years...I thought perhaps I should find you and when I thought this I appeared here."

Desmond's eyes finally realized Altair was chained to one of the strange pillars.

"What's going on?" Desmond spun to glare at the man, thinking he may be the culprit.

"It's the Animus." The man replied. "It doesn't like it when people are wandering around on their own. It'll eventually try to delete all of us. Altair simply...well, he is a problem...a virus...in the Animus. That's what it thinks, so it's trying to chain him down. It's got a good hold on him; you won't be able to free him."

Desmond ignored the warning and tried to get the chains off of his ancestor, but it felt as if he couldn't get a real grasp on it as if he was in a dream. It didn't take long for him to know he'd need far more than just his hands to do it.

"What is going on? Am I or am I not in the Animus?" He faced the man.

"You're in the Animus." The man said. "And you're in your own head. You just can't seem to figure that out, can you? You haven't figured out anything, Desmond. You just think you have."

Desmond glared at the man. "Are you going to give me straight answers or not?"

"You want it straight?" The man's eyes told Desmond the question was a perverted joke.

"This isn't funny." Desmond snapped. "Tell me what is going on!"

"Why don't you figure it out on your own without getting all the help you've been getting up until now." The man said, approaching quickly, causing Desmond to back up just as rapidly. "Stop being a pussy, Desmond, and actually use your own brain! Think! Figure it out! Do this! You can do it! You can! If you put your mind to it!"

Hands pressed against his chest and shoved, sending Desmond backwards through a silver blue screen of light. He fell down into the dark, numbers and figures and faces flashing past him.

* * *

He awoke with a start, sweat slicked skin shuddering at the cold air to meet him. Someone reached for him and he blanched away, eyes wide and unfocused for a moment, before he recognized the worried features of Ezio.

"Desmond?" He asked, placing a hand on the ex-bartender's back.

"Ezio!" Desmond embraced the man without thinking and was glad when he felt how real Ezio was, unlike when he had grabbed the chains surrounding Altair. "I had the worst dream ever..."

"You had a bad dream?" Ezio pulled away from Desmond. "I had the worst real experience ever! You fell from that tower, Desmond! Fell! All the way! It's a miracle you're alive! I don't know how you are!"

"What?" Desmond stared at the man. "What do you mean?"

"You suddenly shouted and grabbed at your head." Ezio explained rapidly. "Then you fell over the railing! I was already on the ground. There was nothing I could do or anyone. You were screaming and clawing at your ears. Then you went still. You said something about Altair before passing out. We got you here, to the headquarters..."

He hesitated and Desmond encouraged him to continue.

"You started thrashing! You were in pain, I think, or something really bad was happening! I don't know. They gave you some pain medicine and you calmed down some. You kept talking though. You didn't understand something...you wanted to know what was going on...I don't know. You were mumbling mostly, but sometimes you would scream."

Desmond stared at Ezio, bewildered.

"And then..."

"Then you suddenly sat up and here we are."

"But..."

"But what?" Ezio grabbed Desmond's shoulders firmly. "What happened?"

"I don't know." Desmond replied, shaking his head. "I think...maybe I sort of returned to my time a little...it was Shaun and Rebecca and my dad...they were talking and it...hurt to hear them like they were giants screaming in my ears. I don't recall falling, only looking up and seeing the tower. After that, I fell asleep and had a really weird dream...a really bad dream."

"Desmond," Ezio rubbed the young man's back. "It's okay. You should rest."

"No." Desmond forced himself to stand, despite Ezio's protests. "I can't. I don't want to. Let's just do something. The tower. Did it..."

"Both the Galata and the Grand Bazaar have been protected." Ezio said. "Well, we lost the Grand Bazaar, but we retook it. You've been unconscious for a couple of days now."

"Shit..." Desmond ran a hand over his hair. "Okay...well, I need to do something. I can't just...I need to do something."

"If you must..." Ezio said, though he seemed anxious.

"We can free-run, right?"

Ezio sighed. "I will accompany you, but you can only go if you promise me if something like that happens again, you sit down!"

"Okay." Desmond said hastily. "Yes. I will. I promise."

"Good."

Ezio turned to lead Desmond out of the headquarters and Desmond followed, mind still spinning from what he had hoped had only been a dream.

* * *

Desmond tried to ignore how worried he had made Ezio. All he wanted to do was forget the incident had happened and focus on improving while also helping the Ottoman Assassins. They were recruiting again, something Desmond felt he was pretty good at. Furthermore, he was training, which he enjoyed immensely. Missions were his favorite thing to do, but training new recruits was next on this list. He also had more to his arsenal, since Yusuf introduced him and Ezio to bombs and Piri Reis, a bomb specialist, whom taught them more than they probably needed to know on the subject. Desmond quickly became a bomb fiend, relying on them far too heavily as he moved through the city training recruits. Predominantly he used them to save any struggling recruits, but also to increase his income. They were buying the city back as they had Roma, but this time purchasing a shop notified the Byzantine Templars of their existence in the city. They had to be more careful than they had been in Roma, much to Desmond's annoyance. Between the two of them, they made an incredible income, but he found he spent quite a bit of it paying off Heralds.

Meanwhile, Ezio wasn't the only one worried. Though Desmond knew Yusuf had planned on having Kasim, Dogan, and Azize help him with his pickpocketing, he knew they hadn't agreed to have him babysat by one or the other Masters. He wondered if this was on Ezio's request or by Yusuf's own order. Dogan was a quiet man, more thoughtful than outspoken, while Azize liked to assert her own opinion into everything. Desmond didn't think it was a bad thing, but it got annoying. Kasim was perhaps the most friendly of the three, chatting idly and making constant recommendations, though politely. Desmond found it was easiest to endure Kasim's presence than the other two's, but he hated this as well. Kasim's name had already brought back the memory of Karim and the fact he chose to wear a mask only made these memories clearer. It didn't take long before Desmond accidentally used the wrong name and he apologized profusely.

"Who is this Karim?" Kasim asked.

"A Levantine." Desmond shrugged, feeling on the spot. "An old friend."

"I see." Kasim moved on quickly in the conversation, much to Desmond's relief.

Desmond also made friends with Heyreddin, another Assassin, whom thankfully chose not to wear a mask. Heyreddin had a cheerful easy-going personality, always looking on the brighter side of things with the glass half-full and everything working out in the end for the better. His company always made Desmond laugh and he was also assured the man wasn't some kind of babysitter either. Heyreddin took to pestering Desmond while he and Ezio tried to reclaim the city. Heyreddin liked annoying Desmond, picking on him, and having a good time. He also tried to get Desmond to smoke from the hookah whenever Desmond came to the headquarters for rest. To make matters worse, Heyreddin seemed to think tripping Desmond up when he was running from the guards was the most amusing sport ever and he constantly made jokes at the young Master's expense.

"I swear to all that is holy," Desmond muttered to Heyreddin as the two entered the headquarters after a long day of running from the guards and Templars. "I am going to fucking kill you. How many times did I nearly get caught? It was all your fault!"

Heyreddin grinned profusely, the smile nearly reaching ear to ear.

"Oh, come on, Master! You're trained enough to get away from anything no matter the interruptions or obstacles to stand in your way! Oh...unless you need retraining in that area. Would you like to burden our three Masters with more training on your behalf? I'm sure they could use a few more sessions of time-wasting on a hopeless case. Speaking of hopeless, how goes pickpocketing, my poor pathetic Master?"

Desmond scowled. He was still a terrible pickpocket and the other Masters were getting frustrated with him on the matter. How was he supposed to excel if he clearly was this terrible.

"We would have never made you a Master." Yusuf laughed at Desmond. "Pickpocketing is a mandatory skill, but apparently not in Roma."

Ezio smiled. "Nah...we gave him a special exception."

"I see."

Desmond hated how bad he was at this. He honestly swore he did everything they told him to and he wondered if he maybe practiced in the Animus, if he could do it with the Bleeding Effect. Then again, it had been his worst skill even when 'possessing' Altair and Ezio. He doubted use of the Animus would provide him with any further help.

"Would you mind if I gave you pointers?" Heyreddin offered as they stood in the armory of the headquarters.

"I have gotten tips from too many people as it is." Desmond muttered, flopping down onto some pillows. "I think I'm never going to be good at this."

"Well, you make it so clear that is your intent, brother." Heyreddin commented as he sat down beside Desmond. "I could tell from a hundred feet away you intend to pickpocket someone."

Desmond sighed. "Oh?"

"Yes." Heyreddin rested on an elbow and faced Desmond. "You need to look like you're up to nothing."

"And how should I do that?"

"In your case, I would practice by going with someone. Chat with them. Act as if you are preoccupied and then..." He made a flourish with his hand. "_Slip_! You snag a purse and keep going. My advice: quickly get the coins out while still walking and drop the purse. People can vouch for a purse, but not coins. Then go to the next target. If you're alone, bump into someone else and apologize. While apologizing, snag a purse from someone passing by and keep walking. Then you still looked preoccupied. The problem is you are clearly focused on the purse. You need to notice it, keep it in mind, and then keep your focus elsewhere otherwise people get suspicious."

"Maybe I just look suspicious...period."

Heyreddin laughed. "No. Actually, you look ridiculously innocent like a cute little virgin boy."

"Fuck you."

"You wish you could."

Desmond's eyes widened and he stared ahead, his silence the result of shock. It took a moment for either to respond and Heyreddin was the first.

"Well, that became awkward all of a sudden." Heyreddin waved a hand in front of Desmond's face. "You all right there, Master?"

Desmond flinched and nodded hastily. "I-I-I'm fine. Sorry...um...that just...surprised me..."

Heyreddin's brow rose. "What? Is it something you want?"

Desmond's mouth dropped. "Shut up! You take joking too far sometimes, you cazzo idiota!"

The man laughed. "I love it when you get angry. You always curse in so many languages. You forget which language you want to talk in! I hear Arabic, Italian, and some other ugly language in there..."

"English..."

"That's English?" Heyreddin blanched. "That's ugly as a squealing pig being strangled to death."

Desmond laughed outright. "You...are weird..."

"Coming from you who speaks such a barbaric language." Heyreddin relaxed back on the cushions. "Ah...this is such a good life. Tough sometimes and a little bit frustrating at others, but such a good life. Look at all the interesting people I get to meet! All the interesting places I get to see! All the interesting things I get to do! I love this life!"

"Me too." Desmond agreed. "It's a life I wouldn't want to ever give up. There are no better alternatives."

"Except you suck at this life."

"Goddammit, Heyreddin, you stronzo! Airy fic!"

Heyreddin threw his head back to bark a laugh. "Well, maybe you'll figure it out."

"Oh, and are you going to teach me?"

"Sure." Heyreddin teased. "In bed."

"Fuck off."

"I do often."

"Must be sad to lead such a one-sided sex life." Desmond finally got himself together enough for a proper comeback.

Heyreddin blinked for a couple seconds of stunned silence before barking out another laugh. "Ah, Desmond, you're funny."

"Whatever."

They fell into an uncomfortable hush while Desmond tried to work out how to dismiss himself politely to escape any further humiliation. Heyreddin beat him to it.

"I have night watch tonight." Heyreddin sat up. "Wish me luck at not falling asleep."

"You fall asleep again and Yusuf is going to have your head."

Heyreddin smiled. "Well, I'll just have to find ways to keep myself...occupied."

Desmond scowled. "I don't want to know."

"I think you do." Heyreddin's grin grew. "Until another time, Master."

As soon as Heyreddin was gone, Desmond stood and headed straight for the living quarters to crash in a bed. Lying there, wanting to sleep, he found his mind occupied with thoughts he didn't much care for. He had a nagging feeling Ezio had once again resulted in an entire Order learning of Desmond's preference and Heyreddin was acting on this knowledge, but Desmond wasn't sure he wanted anything to do with it. Why? He kept asking himself this question. Why would he want to find another person to love if he had already been through this many bad relationships. His first interest was a traitor. The second had died because of a traitor. The third had been a bad idea all the way through. Even his brief interactions with Enkhtuyaa had ended fruitlessly. Why would he seek any comfort from one of the Ottoman Assassins when it was guaranteed that, even if everything went well, he would leave eventually one way or another and never see them again? What was the point? Why was he doing this to himself?

Caught between awake and asleep, he tossed and turned for the rest of the night.

* * *

"You're finally going to the old Polo shop?" Desmond asked as they started towards the place Piri Reis had indicated nearly a week before. "What was taking you so long?"

"I already scouted the area," Ezio explained. "But...reasons kept me back."

"What sort of reasons?" Desmond questioned, opening the door to the book shop and entering it. He found his answer within moments. "Oh."

"Buongiorno." The red-haired woman in a red dress from before greeted them.

Desmond grinned at her, trying hard not to look at Ezio. "Buongiorno, la mia signora."

She gasped, smiling broader. "Oh, you speak Italiano. It is so very good to hear it again."

"Ah, but my friend here is native to the tongue." Desmond motioned to Ezio.

"Please, come in." She smiled at Ezio and Desmond swore he saw a slight bit of pink come to the Italian's cheeks.

Abruptly, she bumped into some books, causing them to fall. "Ah, excuse the clutter. I haven't had time to tidy up since I returned from my trip."

Ezio was by her side before she had even finished the sentence and was helping her with the books.

As they began to converse in what Desmond swore was a budding relationship, he meandered out of earshot and explored the shop, quickly finding a secret entrance. He chose not to disturb them, much to Ezio's expressed annoyance later.

"You shouldn't be encouraging me." Ezio snarled as they slid along the tunnel.

Desmond rolled his eyes. "Like you telling the Ottomans about me isn't you trying to encourage me."

Ezio's eyes widened briefly, telling Desmond he was right in his presumptions.

"You asshole."

"I didn't tell anyone." Ezio attempted to lie.

"Don't try to lie, you jerk!" Desmond smacked the Italian lightly. "You opened up a very awkward conversation between me and Heyreddin."

"Is he interested?" Ezio asked with clear excitement.

Desmond hit him again. "Stop playing matchmaker already! We have quite clearly established you are bad at it."

It was Ezio's turn to roll his eyes.

"I'm not that bad at it. I'm better at that than you are at pickpocketing."

"You can't even get your..." Desmond stopped mid-sentence and floundered momentarily. "I-I...uh...just don't think it is a good idea."

"You were going to say I couldn't get my own love, interest, partner, or whatever, weren't you?" Ezio accused.

"Sorry..." Desmond muttered. "Look. I just can't. Okay? I have had enough bad experiences to last me a life time. I would have better luck if I found someone in my time. I could actually live with them when this is all over...be with them...and stop risking their...their...Ezio? Are you all right?"

Ezio had spaced out during Desmond's speech, enough for the young Master to actually take note of it.

"I'm...fine." Ezio lied unconvincingly.

"No, you're not. What's wrong?"

Ezio sighed, looking away. "I don't know. I think I just keep hoping...that you won't, you know, go home."

Desmond frowned. "Ezio, I know I'm going to have to go home. It's taken me some time to figure it out, but that's going to be the end result. I will have to go home eventually and I don't want to...you know...find someone and then have to leave them behind."

Ezio didn't seem relieved. "I don't want you to go back to that world, Desmond. Those people...they are cruel to you."

"Yeah...a little, but I don't have a choice."

Desmond thought back to what the strange blond man had said in his dream with the chained Altair. Was this the work of the Animus? Had he truly traveled back in time or was this all in his head? He wasn't as sure as he used to be. After all, if he traveled back into time, he should be aging still. If this was all in his head than it made sense for him to remain the same.

"What's wrong, Desmond?"

"We should continue our mission." Desmond encouraged and was surprised with Ezio dropped the topic. Then again, it hadn't seemed like Ezio had wanted to bring up the topic to begin with. "So you're the most interesting man in Sofia's life now, huh?"

Ezio scowled. "Shut up. It sounded good at the time."

"It did and she was impressed." Desmond snickered. "Should I send a letter back to your sister to plan a wedding?"

"A bit soon, don't you think?"

"We gotta hurry." Desmond gave Ezio an appraising look. "You're already too old for her."

He was expecting to be smacked.

"What?" Desmond tried to quell his laughter. "You're practically robbing the cradle."

"And you've successfully convinced me not to pursue her."

"Oh, don't be such a baby, Ezio."

"Baby? Baby!" Ezio rounded on Desmond, who couldn't stop smiling. "You know, I deal with Yusuf all day with his little insults, especially about my age, and then I get to endure the same treatment with you!"

"Just be happy it's not Heyreddin." Desmond crossed his arms. "He's like me and Yusuf combined...times four. Almost every word out of that guy's mouth is an insult."

"Well, isn't this interesting." Ezio's grin had returned as well as the spark in his eyes. "You are spending a lot of time with Heyreddin, hmm? Hmm?"

"Don't hold your breath."

"I will see you find happiness with someone." Ezio pointed at Desmond. "I will see it done! I said I would and I mean it! If it is the last thing I do..."

"At this rate, it will be."

Ezio scowled.

"Hey!"

They both spun at the shout.

"What are you doing here?"

Desmond grinned. "Ready to kill some Templars?"

Ezio shouted back at the Byzantine.

"You better call your friends. We are angry and you're just not going to suffice for our killing spree."

* * *

"Are you sure activating it is a good idea?" Desmond asked as he watched Ezio with the key.

"I'm sure it is fine." Ezio replied, holding the glowing golden disc as if it was nothing. "Wish me luck."

"Please, don't die." Desmond mumbled, crossing his fingers.

The light grew stronger and then suddenly Ezio was sitting there staring at Desmond in shock.

"What happened?" Desmond asked, surprised.

"These are memories." Ezio stated. "Altair's memories. I felt like I was back in the Animus. Like I was you controlling Altair's body! He must have figured it out! How to make memories accessible!"

"What?" Desmond stared at the Italian in disbelief. "You were in one of Altair's memories?"

"Yes!" Ezio said excitedly, passing the key to Desmond. "Here! Look!"

Desmond took the key and tried to activate it, but it wouldn't work.

"I wonder if it is only supposed to work the once." Desmond mumbled.

"Oh...I guess it could be."

Ezio was disappointed, but immediately began to relate the story of how Altair had rescued the Mentor, Al Mualim, and thus earned the title of Master.

"It says as much in The Secret Crusade which Niccolo Polo wrote." Desmond pointed out.

"But you can never trust such creative embellishments."

Desmond's brow rose. "You imagine a book written about you? There would be so many creative embellishments...because you told them the creative embellishments."

Ezio laughed lightly. "My life is very exciting. Didn't you know?"

"Uh-huh."

"You imagine a book written about you?"

Desmond rolled his eyes. "No one would believe it."

"Some would." Ezio argued.

"Yeah...and they're all in insane asylums."

Ezio stared at him in confusion and Desmond explained what an insane asylum was.

"Oh..." Ezio moved on quickly. "Well, I am going to write what I saw and send a letter to Claudia. I hope you don't mind."

"I'll just pester the recruits then."

"Enjoy yourself."

"I know I will."

* * *

"Good evening, Master." Heyreddin greeted Desmond when he entered the armory in search of the new recruits. "Is there something you need?"

"I'm just looking for the recruits."

Heyreddin's grin grew. "They're likely running from you, the slave driver."

"I'm not a slave driver."

The man laughed, setting aside the hose of the hookah he was indulging in. "Well, that's the name they've given you."

"That hurts." Desmond muttered, sitting beside the other man.

"Here you go." Heyreddin passed Desmond the hose.

"No, thanks."

"Just a try."

"I'm good."

"It's not so bad." Heyreddin encouraged.

"You are a bad influence." Desmond pointed out. "These things are bad for your health."

"Nah, they're good for it." Heyreddin argued, drawing a breath from the hose. "It's a relaxant."

"It only feels relaxing to you because you're addicted to it and without it you suffer from withdrawals."

Heyreddin stared at Desmond as if he'd sprouted two heads.

"Whatever." Desmond waved away any questions. "Do what you want, but don't try to force it on me."

Heyreddin smiled as he leaned over towards Desmond. "You know you want to."

"I know I don't." Desmond shoved Heyreddin away from him. "I'll drink though. Do we have anything to drink?"

"Coffee." Heyreddin said. "Tea...we could probably find Kasim's bottle of wine, but good luck. I think he hid it better after I found it."

Desmond's brow rose as he faced Heyreddin. "You are so evil sometimes."

This only made Heyreddin happier. "Oh? Is evil such a bad thing? I hear you and the Mentor gathered something important from the Templars. Did you need to be rescued?"

Desmond glared at the man. "Quit jumping topics at random and, no, I didn't need to be rescued. I was a lot of help."

"Or Ezio simply said you were a lot of help to make you feel better."

"Asshole." Desmond got up to leave, but Heyreddin pulled him back down. "Hey!"

"You're all soft and squishy like a baby." Heyreddin made note of as he squeezed Desmond's side, which was anything but soft and squishy. "You need to be more active, Master."

"I'm plenty active."

"In bed."

Desmond froze momentarily, realizing just then how familiar Heyreddin's hands were getting with his body.

"I think you're already drunk." Desmond pushed roughly away from the man and stood. "I have to go."

Heyreddin was watching him, no amusement or entertainment in his eyes.

"Bye." Desmond said lamely and turned to leave.

He was glad when Heyreddin made no moves towards him and he headed outside to look for his missing recruits. All he wanted to do was train and train and train until he forgot how warm Heyreddin's body had been behind him and how coarse his fingertips had been as they ran along his skin.

He found the recruits working on free-running and decided to give them tips. Mindful of being called 'slave driver', he did his best to keep respect and familiarity between him and the novices in hopes of not scaring them off as Heyreddin had suggested. For him, this was an indulgence: to train, to help, to be of some actual use to everyone around him. He knew he would never be as incredible as either Altair or Ezio, but he could help others on their own paths to greatness. He had helped Luca. He had helped Shezan. He wanted to help! He wanted to do something worthwhile!

For him, this was worthwhile. Of course, he still longed for adventures. He still enjoyed fighting Templars and getting one step closer to winning this war. Training was simply a bonus to the madness, a luxury he was privileged to experience.

He would have it no other way if he could.

"Desmond!"

He turned at his name and saw, whom he assumed to be, Kasim heading towards him. The mask made it difficult to tell.

"I have been looking for you, Master." Kasim said and Desmond recognized the voice. "You should continue training."

"Ugh..." Desmond groaned. "You all know I am hopeless at it."

"We will not give up on you." Kasim insisted, grabbing Desmond's arm and pulling him away from the snickering novices. "Hurry. The Romanies would like to give you some tips."

"Great..._more_ advice."

"It will not hurt you."

"My brain is going to explode."

"You will be fine."

Desmond gave up resisting and allowed himself to be led into the busy streets with hope he would show some improvement tonight.

* * *

"Meet Yusuf at the Hippodrome." The young Assassin informed Ezio and Desmond.

"He has information for us, I assume." Ezio sighed as they started to make their way through the cities, going against Desmond's request to free-run since Ezio wasn't feeling up for it this early in the morning. "I hope so."

"I'm pretty sure he simply wants to check on us."

"Why would he need to?" Ezio elbowed Desmond lightly. "Aren't you always watched by his men, my poor pickpocketting friend."

"I swear: one more person who cracks a joke about my poor pickpocketing skills is going to get punched!"

Ezio sighed in slight exasperation. "So melodramatic."

"Melodramatic..." Desmond muttered, scowling at the Italian. "Speaking of, I think your pains are simply too great for you to be on this mission, my old Mentor. Perhaps you should retire and I can finish this quest for you."

"All right, one more person who cracks a joke about my age is going to get punched!" Ezio mocked an exaggeration of Desmond's earlier statement and then grinned at the young Master. "At this point, what does it matter to be upset by such things? I think I am too old to worry too much over trivial comments about my age."

"Well, fine, maybe you're mature enough to handle the insults, but I'm sick of having to put up with it. I already lack confidence in my skills. I don't need to be told all the time how bad I am at something...especially when I am trying my hardest to get better at it."

"Good luck." Ezio snorted, causing Desmond to glare at him. "But it is true. Perhaps, you should honestly admit to yourself you will never be a good pickpocket. The Assassins, the Thieves, the Courtesans, and even the Romanies have tried to show you what they know and still you make no progress. Perhaps you are cursed."

"Maybe." Desmond mumbled, partially thinking this could really be true.

"But don't dwell on it too much." Ezio commented, offering Desmond a handful of grapes he hadn't been holding a few seconds ago. "One day it will simply make sense and then you'll do it without even thinking and no one will be the wiser for it. Perhaps, it is because you think about it too much."

Desmond recalled Heyreddin saying something similar.

"Perhaps, I do."

* * *

Yusuf, along with the Masters Desmond had been getting to know, greeted them on the top of the Hippodrome. "We should trade stories if I'm not dead by this time tomorrow."

"Is there a chance of that?" Ezio asked.

"And what kind of flowers would you like?" Desmond finished, receiving an elbow in the side from Ezio and a chuckle from Yusuf.

"This one thinks he's funny." Yusuf pointed at Desmond with a devilish grin on his face, which meant for sure Desmond would experience vengeance at some point. "We learned that the Byzantines are planning to infiltrate Topkapi Palace now that Prince Suleiman has returned from his journey. If they do strike, it would be tonight at a cultural expedition the Prince has organized."

"So what is our plan?" Ezio cut straight to the point.

"This is not your fight." Yusuf patted Ezio's shoulder. "No need to snare yourself in the Ottoman affairs."

Desmond could see the irritation in Ezio's stance and hear it in his voice, no matter how subtle it was.

"The Byzantines found a key beneath Topkapi Palace and I would like to know how."

"Ezio," The way Yusuf spread his arms was a definite sign of him reminding the Italian they were brothers and friends in the same Order. "We want to protect our Prince; not interrogate him."

Instantly, the irritation ran off of Ezio like water on greased leather. "Trust me, Yusuf. Just tell me where to go."

Yusuf took a moment to answer and Desmond was sure he only did because he did not wish for discord between the Ottoman's and their guests from Roma. "Topkapi's main gate. We plan to dress as entertainers and walk right in."

"I will find a disguise and meet you there." Ezio assured the other man, though the look in Yusuf's eyes clearly said he was not reassured.

Ezio turned towards Desmond, who was about to follow, until he was waved over by one of the masked Masters. He excused himself from Ezio, promising to meet him at Topkapi with a disguise, and walked over to the waiting group. He was instantly put on edge when three of the Masters excused themselves and the one whom had waved him over removed his mask to reveal himself as Heyreddin.

"Is something amiss?" Desmond asked, crossing his arms.

"Merely wanted to apologize for yesterday." Heyreddin assured him. "I didn't mean to cause you alarm or insult you. Ezio had said somethings and I took them too much to heart, it seems."

Desmond swallowed, wanting to punch Ezio into the ground. "Well, it's not as if he lied."

Heyreddin seemed to perk at this and Desmond quickly corrected himself.

"Though he hadn't realized I'd sworn an oath of celibacy."

Instantly, Heyreddin laughed. "_Right_."

"It's true." Desmond tried to sound honest. "Anyways, I'm sorry too for all of the confusion. I wasn't being clear and Ezio was being an ass."

It didn't seem like Heyreddin liked this answer, but he didn't press the issue.

"Another thing." Heyreddin's voice dropped, but Desmond could tell the other Assassins, in particular Yusuf, were listening in. "About Ezio..."

"You can trust him." Desmond interrupted.

"But just in case..." Heyreddin seemed nervous. "Can you please keep an eye on him? The last thing we need is a boxing match between Ezio and the Prince."

Desmond sighed. "I was going to anyways, but there really is no need. Ezio is foremost faithful to the Order. He doesn't want a dispute between us and the Ottomans. We have enough problems with the Byzantines and don't need another enemy to make things difficult for us. If anything, he'll try to ally himself with Suleiman instead of attack him."

"Perhaps..." Heyreddin showed as much trust in Ezio as Yusuf had.

"I already said I would watch him." Desmond couldn't keep his voice from turning into a growl. "I'll see you at the Palace."

He spun on his heel to leave the Ottomans behind, trying hard to reign in his anger and mentally prepare for their mission. Instead, he fumed the entire trip to Topkapi Palace, unaware of how worried he had made his fellow Assassins in the process.

* * *

"No." Desmond refused as Ezio held up the Italian bard outfit. "I was totally game for beating up bards, but there is no way in heaven or hell you'll get me to wear that."

"Don't be such a baby, Desmond." Ezio continued to hold out the outfit.

"How about I watch from afar." Desmond suggested. "I could, you know, warn you if something really bad is about to happen."

"You're being a baby, Desmond."

"You're being a jerk. I'm not wearing that."

"Baby."

"Grandpa."

"Stronzo." Ezio waggled the outfit. "Wear it! We don't have all night."

"I'll look ridiculous!" Desmond waved at Ezio. "Like you do!"

Ezio was already changed into the outfit, looking horrific as Desmond knew he would.

"I'm not wearing that."

Ezio tossed it at him. "Fine. You can either wear it and join us or serve as a distraction if we need it."

"What kind of distraction?"

"How about the crazy naked man running through the party kind of distraction?" Ezio suggested with a devious grin.

Desmond had a terrifying feeling Ezio was serious.

"Cazzo."

Desmond began to change.

* * *

Yusuf was giving them a disgusted look when they approached him. Like the other Assassins around them, Yusuf also wore bard clothing.

"I look ridiculous." Yusuf glanced down at himself. "I feel ridiculous."

"Join the club." Desmond grumbled.

"Are we starting one?" Yusuf peered at Desmond in mock horror.

"Oh, god, no."

They quickly arranged how they would kill their targets and Ezio finally picked up the instrument he would be playing.

"You...uh...know how to play that...thing?" Yusuf asked skeptically and Desmond watched on with equal skepticism.

"I learned a few chords when I was young."

"We're screwed." Desmond groaned to himself.

"When were you ever young?" Yusuf asked and Desmond instantly laughed while around them, the other Assassins attempted to contain some of the anxious mirth.

* * *

It didn't take long to get into the party, Ezio's horrible singing and playing causing Desmond to get a side ache from trying to hold in his laughter. Being serious while wearing a bard outfit and watching Ezio, Master Mentor of the Assassins, wearing similar attire and playacting as a figure whom had caused much cursing in the past was priceless. He wanted to share this moment with someone, in particular Altair, whom neither Assassin spoke much about. They had grown accustomed to each other taking their time showing up. What could they do anyways to bring the Syrian to them? They hadn't had any dreams containing him, other than Desmond's nightmare. He kept insisting it had only been a dream, that no truths were held within it. He also hoped he was right on the matter.

Abruptly, something went wrong and it took a moment for Desmond to realize what. One of the bodies hadn't made it into hiding. The guards were on alert. Yusuf was in battle. Desmond started towards the fray, noticing the Byzantine disguised as a guest kill a guard and rush towards the Prince. Ezio reached the Byzantine first, using his broken instrument as a weapon.

It was over in seconds and Desmond stood there, stunned and feeling useless.

A short conversation between Ezio and Suleiman and Desmond and Yusuf had been given the word to lower their guard and retrieve their proper attire.

Some distance from the activity, Ezio informed them he would be meeting with the Prince.

"Good." Yusuf seemed relieved. "We will go."

"Yes." Ezio agreed.

"Desmond, you will come with me."

Desmond looked at Yusuf, startled. "I was actually hoping to attend this meeting with Ezio..."

"I believe we should speak." Yusuf said firmly.

"Go with Yusuf." Was Ezio's reply to Desmond's unspoken question. "I will meet you at the headquarters later."

"Yes, Mentor." Desmond gave a respectful bow and followed Yusuf and the other Assassins out of Topkapi Palace along with the other guests.

They didn't speak until they were on the roofs some distance from the palace, overlooking the port and Galata Tower on the other side of it.

"You were slow to react." Yusuf stated, confirming Desmond's suspicions on why this meeting had been called.

"I'm sorry." Desmond didn't deny what had clearly been obvious. "I should have been more focused, but the party caused my mind to wander. There is no excuse for my actions."

"No, there isn't." Yusuf agreed. "You could have cost the Prince's life either by Byzantine or Ezio. You could have lost the tiny favor we currently possess from the Ottoman Empire. You could have caused the Templars to be one step closer to winning this war we wage with them. You are lucky your faith in your Mentor was well-placed."

"I know." Desmond sighed, feeling exhausted and worn thin.

"I cannot let you continue teaching the recruits."

Desmond winced at the punishment.

"You were not focused on an incredibly important mission and you are a poor pickpocket. I believe in your skill as a Master, but I cannot trust you with the novices. Until you learn to pickpocket and to retain your focus at all times, you are suspended from teaching. You will instead train harder."

"I am training hard enough."

"It is not enough!"

Desmond had never seen Yusuf angry and the reaction silenced him.

"You will train until you realize where you are wrong and you will train until you perfect it. Otherwise, you will do nothing else. You will not attend missions. You will not train."

"What if Ezio insists for my aid?"

"Than you will act like one of the novices." Yusuf replied coldly. "You will come to his aid as any novice or any other Assassin would, but while you are here in Istanbul you are not a Master."

Desmond didn't argue, merely removed the second hidden blade: his badge of honor as a Master.

"As you wish, Master." Desmond bowed with the equivalent respect he would show Ezio or Altair.

"I am glad you understand." Yusuf took the blade. "Now, I assign Kasim and Heyreddin to be your teachers. Azize and Dogan are too busy handling important missions I have for them to be wasted on you. Now, go. Kasim is waiting for you at Galata Tower. If you can reach him before the sun rises completely you will be permitted to sleep."

Desmond glanced at the horizon and the light grey it had turned. His eyes widened and he twirled hastily to set off towards Galata at a speed he'd never run before.

* * *

The day seemed hotter than any day Desmond had ever spent in Constantinople. To make matters worse, he hadn't slept since the night before since he had not reached Galata Tower in the time given to him, his haste only hampering him through slips, falls, and painful miscalculations on jumps. His knees were bruised. His palms were cut through the leather of his gloves to the bone beneath his skin. Every muscle was sore. He was exhausted. The heat wasn't helping. Staring at a potential target beneath the heavy rays of sun caused his eyelids to droop and his breathing to deepen. He was on a mission and he was falling asleep!

"I can't do this." Desmond told Kasim finally. "I can't. I will literally fall asleep."

Kasim's head faced him, but his face remained masked and his features indiscernible.

"We are almost done if you can hang on a bit longer, brother."

Desmond had noticed the change in respect. He was no longer treated like a Master in the eyes of the Ottomans. Having fallen from the respected title, he was now referred to as brother or novice, though it seemed no venom accompanied either words. He tried to ignore how annoyed this made him and tried to move through it like he had all the other grime and grit he'd endured in his warped lifetime.

Rubbing a hand over his features, he tried to get some feeling into his face before returning his focus to the target.

"Is it the man we are looking for?" Kasim asked in his usual calm.

Desmond strained his eyes, reverting to eagle vision finally.

"N-no..." Desmond mumbled.

"You cheated."

"Yeah..." He didn't dare deny it.

"You may return to headquarters for rest, novice, but this evening you will continue where you left off."

Desmond nodded solemnly and slid off the roof to the street below. He knew Kasim was equally as tired and ready for rest, so was not surprised when the man joined him on their journey back to the Galata district.

"Your gift..." Kasim began the conversation which would save them from collapsing out of exhaustion. "Ezio has it as well?"

"Yes."

"You are related then?"

Desmond hesitated. "Yes...distantly."

"I see." Kasim mumbled.

Dangerous silence fell between them and Desmond felt his foot drag longer on the ground. He blinked and tried to straighten his back a little more.

"W-why did you join the Assassins?" Desmond asked abruptly, trying to keep his mind active.

"Same as Heyreddin, Dogan, and Azize." Kasim replied with a weak shrug. "It was better than the alternative."

"Which was?"

"Being petty thieves and vagabonds without a place to call home." Kasim sounded like he had smiled, but his mask prevented confirmation. "I have nothing against the Thieves' Guild and I know they are for our cause, but in the end they hold more value for coin than for winning a war they never started. I would rather have my name lifted in honor of protecting my people and all people of the world than letting it rest in the filth and bile of being nothing but a thief."

Desmond nodded slowly.

"And you?"

"I was born into the Order." Desmond admitted. "But I ran away when I was a kid. It took getting captured by Templars to have me realize how bad things really were. I rejoined the Order and have served since...as best as I could."

"This is not your best." Kasim waved at him. "This isn't even close."

"Ouch." Desmond sighed, hating being picked on again and again.

"I am not trying to insult you." Kasim corrected him. "I am complimenting you. You are a great Assassin and worthy of the title Master, but you won't even realize your own potential. You instead permit little distractions and your own lack of confidence to destroy any hope you have of reaching such a level. It will not be until you set aside your worries and personal loathing that you are able to rise to the rank of Master."

Desmond frowned. "Self-loathing, huh..."

"The boat seems about to depart." Kasim motioned towards the dock where a boat was untying. "We must hurry."

* * *

Training beneath Kasim and Heyreddin was like no other training Desmond had received. He knew, somewhere deep inside of his heart, Ezio and Altair had meant well when training him, but they had permitted him to use baby steps and also skim over things they felt were covered in the Animus sessions. Desmond hadn't realized until now how much this had hindered his training. He was back to square one, going over the basics, relearning how to move and fight as an Assassin. This meant going back to simply running a straight line. In a way, he was reminded of his years spent on the Farm with his father teaching him. It had been grueling work and he had hated it, not seeing any point to the madness. He was an adult and he knew the point of the madness now, but he still hated it. Kasim and Heyreddin were kind to him as people, but they were slave drivers as teachers, making Desmond feel like he had gone easy on his recruits. They admitted they pushed him harder than they would any other novice.

"But you're up for it, aren't you, my demoted Master?"

Heyreddin hadn't lost his spark and quick insults, though Desmond now had little tolerance for them. However, he learned quickly that Heyreddin was now above him and had no qualms about putting him in his place for back-talking. A few laps around the Galata district after lashing back was enough to teach him about Heyreddin's temper and demand for respect. After all, Heyreddin had earned his place among the Order from hard work and he hadn't been given any favor from those above like Desmond had from Ezio and Altair.

With Ezio out investigating for Masyaf keys, dealing with Byzantines, Janessaries, and Ottomans, and training new Assassins to Master level while also enjoying a blossoming love with Sophia, Desmond was left without any voice against the brutal training. Ezio was the only one capable of stopping this and he was too busy even to notice how Desmond barely made it to his bed every night, if he got to it at all, and how dark circles were forming around his eyes while scars were healing on his hands.

He kept wondering if this sort of insane training was worth it. In all honesty, he saw no improvement on his part, aside from a bucketful more respect for his superiors and fellow brothers. Other than sorer muscles and the consistent feeling he was about to pass out at any moment, nothing had really changed.

Every day he found moments to close his eyes and try to catch up on rest. Even if it meant leaning against a wall for a couple of seconds, he didn't miss the opportunity. Some of his strength seemed to return from these brief naps and he focused a bit better during practice.

The training progressed to mock missions, targeting random Romanies or Thieves or Assassins whom had volunteered. He was always worried he would hurt someone and his hesitation resulted in much berating from his trainers.

"You cannot ever hesitate!" Heyreddin snapped at him as the Romanie woman walked off, trying to hide her amusement. "Trust in your abilities!"

"But I don't!"

Heyreddin fumed some more. "Novice!"

"Clearly!"

They hadn't been getting along, which Desmond suspected was because they were no longer equals, but teacher and student. They weren't _supposed_ to get along.

Days were blurring together, a process Desmond tried to avoid at all costs. His anxiety grew along with his frustration. He didn't want his time spent in Ezio's era to be wasted training with two teachers, whom seemed almost to hate him.

He complained to Ezio, but the Italian offered little advice on the matter.

"Yusuf will not grant you Master privileges until you are of Master quality."

"I don't care about the privileges!" Desmond argued.

"You should."

"Why?" Desmond couldn't believe he was almost whining.

"Because then you wouldn't be in this situation."

Desmond scowled. "Fuck you."

"Fuck yourself." Ezio sort of smiled. "I hear you're getting good at it."

Scoffing, Desmond stood.

The reminder he was a novice and didn't seem to be progressing was bad, but he especially hated the reminders he was alone. At this moment, they seemed to hit home harder. He pondered whether his skill as an Assassin was also a sign of his skill as a person. If he was so bad at being an Assassin, maybe he was bad at being a person, which could be why his relationships failed. He knew this was stupid logic, but his mind frequently dwelt on the topic. Thankfully, it didn't hinder his training sessions.

He began to learn to think of nothing, but the mission at hand. He began to forget about his life and its woes while he was stalking his prey. The focus was good and he did notice an improvement of his skills in sneaking, hiding, and killing.

Then it happened. He was to steal three notes from the pockets of the Romanie volunteers. Too fatigued to predict failure and strongly desiring a bed to sleep in, he slid into the crowd with haste. In reflection, he didn't really think about what he was doing. Eagle vision guided him to the correct targets. Whatever else happened between reaching them and getting back onto the roof to pass the notes off to Kasim remained a mystery to him.

"I believe your training is complete." Kasim told him and Desmond looked up startled only to realize then he had passed off all three notes without once being noticed by the still waiting Romanies. "You may go back to headquarters to sleep. We will wake you in the morning to complete some tests to ensure there is nothing more we can teach you."

Desmond bowed and did as he was told.

He didn't know it, but they didn't wake him until the morning after.

* * *

Desmond awoke sore, but refreshed. Lazily, he got up from where he had been sleeping and wandered the headquarters, watching as excited recruits rehashed their adventures with their brothers and sisters while trainers looked on with mild amusement. Meanwhile, the Master were immersed in what appeared to be a rather secretive conversation.

"What's going on?" Desmond asked as he approached them and watched them immediately fall into a hush. "Oh, I'm not to know?"

Dogan turned to his companions, whom didn't seem to give any clues to their thoughts on the matter, before facing Desmond.

"A lot happened." He stated.

Desmond's brow rose. "Like what?"

"Tarik Barleti was assassinated by Ezio under Suleiman's orders."

"And?" Desmond shrugged. "He's a Templar."

"It turns out he wasn't." Kasim informed Desmond, his words shocking him. "He was trying to _stop_ the Templars. Our information was faulty."

"Crap..." Desmond muttered. "So what then? What are we doing now?"

"You already missed it." Heyreddin teased Desmond. "You slept like a baby even though it felt like an earthquake was going off."

"Huh?" Desmond gazed at him, surprised.

"The Great Chain had been raised by the Janessaries across the Golden Horn." Kasim explained. "Ezio destroyed the tower keeping it held and also the entire fleet of ships meant to stop passage out of the Golden Horn. He has set sail with Piri Reis for Cappadocia."

Desmond's mouth dropped. "HE LEFT WITHOUT ME?"

* * *

Desmond paced the docks, the awe of seeing so much fire and devastation on the water already worn off and replaced by agitation and rage. Ezio had once again abandoned him for an adventure Desmond would have adored experiencing. Meanwhile, he had left instructions with Yusuf, not Desmond, to guard Sophia Sartor in his absence. Sure, Desmond admitted, he wasn't a Master currently and had been asleep during Ezio's adventures with the Janessaries, but this was not an excuse to leave Desmond completely out of the loop. He wouldn't have minded being smuggled asleep onto a boat! He'd have thoroughly enjoyed a trip to Cappadocia, the underground city, which now he would not get to see!

"You have a temper like a stung bull." Heyreddin commented as he approached.

"Buzz off." Desmond waved at the other Assassin as if Heyreddin was the stinging bee.

The Master snorted a laugh. "The things you say sometimes."

"Whatever."

"Oh, it's not that bad."

"Yes, it is!" Desmond argued, facing him. "I get tired of getting left behind and treated like I'm not cut out for this! They keep doing it to me! They keep acting like I can't handle it! Maybe, that's why my training was so...shady, why I can't keep up with those around me! If Ezio and Altair would have just..."

"Altair?"

Desmond froze, having forgotten he and Ezio had agreed not to share Desmond's time-travelling and their close friendship with Altair.

"Altair Ibn-La'Ahad?"

"Of course not." Desmond gave Heyreddin a confused look. "There was a..."

"Levantine." Heyreddin seemed to be putting pieces together, which Desmond wasn't surprised about since the man wasn't unintelligent. "Kasim told me you had a friend, a Levantine, by the name of Karim, but there are no Levantine Assassins left. Now you have a friendship with Altair?"

"It's not the same Altair." Desmond tried to keep up the charade. "And the Levantine, I meant he was from the Levantine area..."

"It's not referred to as Levantine anymore."

"Oh..." Desmond shrugged. "I hadn't realized."

Heyreddin eyed him suspiciously, but surprisingly didn't push the subject.

"Well, Ezio clearly cares for you and does not wish to cause you harm." Heyreddin moved the topic along. "I am not surprised. You two are like brothers. He has raised you, I assume."

"We're only distantly related."

"How long have you known one another?"

"I don't know...twenty years?"

Heyreddin's brow shot up.

"That was an exaggeration." Desmond scoffed. "Anyways, we've known each other for a long time. What gives?"

"Something doesn't add up..." Heyreddin muttered, but again moved on. "Well, if you've known each other for a long time than you should know by now Ezio will prefer to do things on his own than risk your safety...clearly."

He motioned out at the wreckage in the bay.

Desmond sighed. "I'm going back to headquarters."

"I hear Yusuf wished to speak with you." Heyreddin abruptly told him. "He is outside of Sophia Sartor's little bookshop."

Desmond's eyes narrowed briefly, but he made no comment as he looked out at the bay. How was he supposed to convince a ferry to take him through this kind of mess?

"I'm going to have to swim, huh?"

Heyreddin laughed. "Yes. You're going to have to swim."

"I swear you guys hate me."

"Didn't you know?"

"I knew it."

Heyreddin slung an arm over Desmond's shoulders, pressing his lips against the side of the young man's head. Desmond was tense as he felt the man inhale a breath from his hair and then breathe out a sigh as if this show of affection brought him great pleasure and relief.

"So when are we going to spend some time together?" Heyreddin asked, coyness entering his voice.

"Never." Desmond growled, recalling the harsh treatment he had received while Heyreddin had been his teacher.

"But I know your little secret." Heyreddin argued.

"What little secret?" Desmond shook his head. "I thought Ezio told everyone."

Heyreddin laughed, pressing his face into Desmond's hair again.

"That you time-travel, brother."

Desmond's whole body felt suddenly quite sensitive and he flinched out of Heyreddin's reach.

"I think you've been spending too much time with the hookah, Heyreddin."

"Don't try to snake your way out of this."

Heyreddin used only his one hand to drag Desmond into an alley and shove him roughly against a wall. Desmond, unaccustomed to being manipulated and controlled like this, did nothing, too shocked to even think of how to evade the situation. The gap between them closed in seconds, Heyreddin filling it with lip-biting kisses and frenzied body-searching hands. The violation was brief, merely a taste of passion Desmond had nearly forgotten he longed for.

"That was easier than I thought it would be." Heyreddin teased, brushing a hand over the front of Desmond's pants, causing the younger to jerk away. "Well? Shall we?"

"I..." Desmond's brain was swimming, the smell of hookah smoke and heavy incense still burning his nostrils and the feeling of teeth tugging on his lower lip still dulling his senses. "N-no...I have to meet with Yusuf."

He didn't miss the disappointed look Heyreddin gave him.

"If you insist."

Desmond left as quickly as he could get himself moving, a part of him resisting his conscious actions in hopes of satisfying a more carnal need. He kept his mind focused, a skill now honed to near perfection thanks to the efforts of Kasim and Heyreddin. He was sure the only reason Heyreddin had let him go was because the fact Desmond, being as excited as he clearly was, had still chosen instead to keep to his duties. He wouldn't miss the opportunity this gave him to clear his mind and the chilly water to cool down his now warm body.

* * *

Somehow the entire Assassin Order learned of Heyreddin and Desmond's brief alleyway passion, something Desmond wasn't surprised about. There were three factions constantly running around Istanbul. All it took was a thief, Romani, or Assassin to have been within sight of them for rumors to spread like wildfire. Yusuf tried to play indifferent, but Desmond got the distinct feeling he wasn't happy one of his Master Assassins was fooling around with Desmond. Heyreddin for his part liked to perpetuate the rumor into something far worse than what had actually happened, claiming in whispers far more success in his seduction of Desmond, while Desmond did his best to tell everyone the entire ordeal was one-sided on Heyreddin's part. He didn't realize until after he had told everyone this, he'd chosen the wrong course of action. Whispers in the corners of the headquarters gave him all the information he needed.

"So he's just leading Heyreddin on?" The young recruit tried to keep his surprise down.

Desmond pressed against the wall and tried to listen to the conversation occurring just within the adjoining room.

"Well, that's certainly what he's telling everyone."

"I thought he made it clear from the beginning?"

"No. He's been stringing him along this whole time."

"But Heyreddin isn't serious about this? It's just a game to him, right?"

"I...don't know."

Desmond wondered the same thing. Was this just a game for Heyreddin? The way he bragged and insisted more had happened caused this line of questioning to grow stronger in Desmond's thoughts. He began to spend more time on guard duty over Sophia in hopes of distracting himself from over analyzing it all. While guard duty did provide him with the necessary distraction, it wasn't enough. Returning to headquarters instantly brought back the questions and fears he didn't like to think he had.

Did he want Heyreddin to like him? He wasn't entirely sure. Heyreddin and him got along on one level and totally despised one another on a different level. It was like they each had clones of themselves: one set were best friends while the other set did their best to ruin each other's lives. Was this what being in a relationship was really like? Desmond hadn't been in any real relationship before. The more he looked back on his time spent with Luca, the more it felt like a fling, while his interaction with Karim was best described as watching a train wreck: he couldn't take his eyes from the horror. Lucy didn't even count anymore in the grand scheme of things. This meant, Heyreddin was probably the closest thing to real dating Desmond had ever done and only because they hung out as friends before they had kissed. He wasn't sure this counted.

Amid fighting over his emotions and dealing with a turmoil of questions, headaches and voices tried to interfere with his thinking. It was as obvious as last time, the voices were those of Shaun, Rebecca, and his father, William. They were not as intense as the last time, but they were enough to be a hindrance to any missions he was to partake in. He informed Yusuf of them, though kept the voices in his head to himself, and admitted he didn't trust not fainting. Yusuf excused him from guard duty, much to Desmond's annoyance. Now he had less distractions.

The dreams did not help his peaking anxiety. Nightmares plagued his sleep after every bout of voices and headaches, each of them filled with the blond man, claiming to be Subject Sixteen or Clay Kaczmarek, and a chained Altair. Each dream, Altair looked worse, his body frailer and skinnier as if he was starving to death.

It wasn't long before Desmond's fears escalated to screaming outright, waking not only himself, but those unlucky enough to be sleeping near him.

Nervousness spread through the Assassin Order, which he figured was to be expected when a supposed Master had nightmares bad enough to scream himself awake. He decided to sleep during the daytime while the other Assassins were busy in the city, but this proved just as bad since his feverish nightmares could now be witnessed by any whom were willing to spend their free time at the headquarters.

"You do not look well." Kasim told him, passing him a jug of water. "You are not sleeping well and you're not eating enough."

"I'm not feeling good."

"These nightmares..." Kasim began, but fell silent at the glare Desmond gave him.

They didn't bring the topic up again. Desmond couldn't explain what was really going on, being confused himself, but he had a vague feeling whatever was happening was real and Altair needed to be rescued soon.

"How?" Desmond shouted at Clay. "How am I supposed to get him away from this? How do I rescue him?"

"You're almost too late." Clay stated, his voice foreboding. "You're running out of time, Desmond."

"Help me!" Desmond grabbed the chains, tugging at them, though they slipped through his fingers as if they were greased. "Help me!"

"There's nothing I can do." Clay's tone made Desmond's heart pump faster. "There's nothing you can do. There's nothing anyone can do."

"Stop!" Desmond yelled, though he wasn't sure if his words were directed at Clay, the Animus, or whatever cruel fate had been tossed at him. "STOP IT!"

He swore he saw the light dying from Altair's eyes.

"NO!"

He woke in a cold sweat, one of many, his hands shaking and his heart beating hard enough to cause pain in his chest. He was glad no one was at headquarters, but a few minutes of trying to calm himself and endure the nearly impenetrable silence seemed to alert him to a peril he hadn't anticipated. Something was wrong.

Following his gut feeling, he quickly geared up and ditched headquarters, heading straight towards the old Polo shop.

* * *

Desmond reached the bookshop just as it fell under attack. Leaping from the building, he dropped down for a double kill, one with his hidden blade and the other with a knife, which he then turned on three more approaching Templars. All around him was chaos, but he filtered through it, spotting Yusuf pushing Sophia inside the shop while fending off several attackers. He rushed through the mass of moving bodies, dodging blades and sudden steps back. With a few short strokes, he eliminated Yusuf's attackers and ordered the man to get Sophia to safety, forgetting he was not a Master at the moment. It appeared Yusuf forgot as well since he immediately did as he was instructed while Desmond spun to fend off any attempted pursuits.

He felt he had this, though in reality he should have known better. Though he had learned focus and had perfected his skill, his exhaustion from hardly getting through another fitful sleep hindered his ability. The knife came out of no where, shoving deep into his abdomen.

The world spun into darkness and his eyes widened at three faces leaning over him.

"No." He gasped, gripping his bleeding side. "Send me back!"

"Desmond, you're severely wounded and..." William started, but Desmond wasn't paying him any attention.

With all his might, he focused on returning to that moment.

The dizzy whirling brought him slamming into stone. Dust clogged his senses and burned his eyes. He tasted metal on his tongue. There was a persistent ringing in his ears. Darkness clouded his vision. The ground fell away. Someone was carrying him. In his head, voices were begging him to return and the headache resulting from their shouting nearly drowned out all other sounds for several moments. He barely caught the Turkish voice.

"Dispose of the body in the sewers."

He heard a gate opening and felt a blast of cold air hit him before he fell awkwardly into the small hole. The dingy water came up to meet him, filling his mouth and nose and causing him to choke. Some kind of instinct took over and he dragged himself out of the water onto the thin path provided. Feebly he began to crawl, driven by an animal desire to survive.

His vision was playing tricks on him. Sporadic glimpses to the island distorted his view and he realized quickly he was crawling towards Altair, still chained, but white as death and still. Desperation entered his movements as he crawled quicker towards the man, mud and grime splattering his face with each strike forward.

"Altair..." He groaned, reaching for the man. "Altair..."

Arms found him and pulled him up, straight through the ghostly image of Altair, which dissipated like smoke.

* * *

He awoke griping his side and crying out Altair's name. Heyreddin and Ezio shoved him back down.

"We have to save him!" Desmond said in near hysterics. "He's dying, Ezio! He's dying!"

Ezio shushed him much like a mother trying to soothe a frightened child.

"Desmond, it was a dream."

"It isn't a dream, Ezio!" Desmond grabbed the front of the Italian's robes. "We have to hurry or he's not going to make it!"

Heyreddin stood and left the room while Ezio sighed heavily.

"I'm sorry, Desmond." Ezio stood. "I do not have much more time. I stayed with you as long as I could. I must rescue Sophia."

"Sophia?" Desmond's eyes widened. "Oh, no...they...I'm so sorry."

"It is not your fault."

Desmond did not believe Ezio actually felt this way. There was clear blame in Ezio's eyes.

"I will return shortly, I hope."

"Let me help."

"No." Ezio shoved Desmond roughly back down, reminding Desmond quickly of the pain in his side. "You are of no use to anyone like this. Stay here and rest."

He left without further word, leaving Desmond in deep self-loathing while he tried to fix the wreck of emotions he was mucking through. He was surprised when Heyreddin returned.

"You are not going to help him?"

"I believe his blame is ill-placed." Heyreddin stated sternly, his arms crossed. "Had it not been for your aid, many more of us would have died. Though, I do not believe Ezio blames you for Sophia's capture, merely for worrying him."

"I don't..."

"You are permitted to think differently." Heyreddin cut across him. "We have a task to complete, brother."

"I'm not fit for tasks."

"You are fit for this." Heyreddin helped Desmond stand and led him slowly into the adjoining room.

Desmond's eyes wandered the room and then fell to something out of place on the floor. He was instantly paralyzed.

"Y-Y-Yusuf..." He stuttered, eyes growing wet. "N-no..."

Heyreddin encouraged him to continue walking and set him down on one side of the deceased Master's body.

"You will help prepared him for burial." Heyreddin instructed though Desmond was not yet ready to move on from the shock. "Pass me those wrappings."

It took some time for Desmond to finally begin moving again, guilt and self-loathing increasing with each layer of cloth added to Yusuf's body.

Heyreddin hastily distracted his thoughts.

"I saw you get stabbed." Heyreddin stated. "And momentarily disappear."

"Yeah..." Desmond didn't bother lying.

"When you reappeared, there was..." Heyreddin struggled over his words. "Blue light running across you in lines. Over and over again. The Templars didn't seem to notice. They picked you up and dumped you in the sewers."

"I know..." Desmond mumbled.

"You really are a time-traveler."

"In a way," Desmond shrugged. "I can only follow my ancestors...so far Altair...and Ezio."

"They're your ancestors?"

Desmond didn't miss the hint of jealousy.

"Yup."

Heyreddin thought on this confirmation for a while before asking, "You knew Altair?"

"Yes."

"And you are afraid he is in peril?"

Desmond rubbed at his forehead. "Yeah...but it's not something I can explain...like how my side hurts, but there is no wound."

He showed Heyreddin the spot where pain pulsed, but no cut could be seen.

"Everything about this time travel seems random and disorganized." Desmond shrugged. "Sometimes I feel like I'm dreaming, not living, and sometimes I think perhaps I really am just dreaming all of this."

Heyreddin frowned and then reached over to touch Desmond's shoulder. "You feel real to me."

Desmond almost smiled. "Of course you'd say that: dreams always try to pretend they're real."

"By that logic, one can never know what is real or a dream."

"I guess, you're right."

They finished wrapping Yusuf and carefully stepped around him to return to the smaller room, neither able to bare any further time spent with Yusuf's corpse.

"Desmond..." Heyreddin's mouth plunged down to meet Desmond's, but he was rejected as soon as the young Assassin started to think again. "Des..."

"No..." Desmond rebuked him. "I can't. You wouldn't understand it because you dwell on here and now, but I can't bare the idea of having to leave another interest behind."

"Which is why I live in the here and now." Heyreddin crossed his arms, a dignified stance Desmond knew all too well. "So I'm not afraid."

Desmond's brow rose. "No...Heyreddin. I don't want to. Especially not now."

Heyreddin seemed to think opposite. "But now is perhaps the best time when we need comfort the most."

"I've licked old wounds before." Desmond growled in a warning for Heyreddin to back off. "It didn't end well for either party involved."

"Karim?" Heyreddin guessed, causing Desmond to flinch. "Come, Desmond. The past is the past, so it'll stay there, not resurface again."

"If you're looking for an easy bed partner, why not search elsewhere?"

"Clearly, if I wanted an easy bed partner, I wouldn't be pursuing you."

Desmond couldn't argue this point and tried another angle. "But I still say no. I don't want to, so give up. Furthermore, this is inappropriate. Your Master just died and your brothers and sisters in the Order are out fighting the Templars! You shouldn't be thinking about how to settle your every physical whim!"

He was immediately pushed down, all awareness of his wound lost on the enraged Heyreddin.

"You are not a whim!" Heyreddin snarled, pinning Desmond painfully to the cushions. "I have done everything in my power to hold back because I don't want you to feel you are simply some curiosity or momentary interest then you insult me by claiming I am exactly that."

Desmond lay there, silently watching Heyreddin's fury. He had seen the same anger in himself when he had thrashed Karim and felt it returned tenfold. Slowly, his eyes closed and he let the words fall to deaf ears. He didn't have the physical, mental, or emotional energy to deal with a verbal harassment.

It didn't take long for Heyreddin to abandon him there and Desmond, fatigued more from listening to the berating, fell again into restless sleep.

* * *

He awoke to rustling and sat up groggily, feeling more rested than he had in weeks, but still not as good as he could be. After rubbing the sleep from his eyes and adjusting to the bright light streaming into the room, he stood and wandered into the main chamber where the Assassins had gathered.

Approaching Kasim, he whispered, "Are we burying him?"

"Yes." Kasim nodded, swallowing hard. "Thank you for helping to wrap him. It was..."

"Of course." Desmond interrupted when Kasim choked on his words.

The Masters, Kasim, Heyreddin, and Dogan took up Yusuf's bound body and began the procession from the headquarters. Desmond followed on the long mournful walk to the crypt where a grave had already been dug. Carefully, Yusuf's body was lowered into the ground and they all began to bury him silently. By the time he had been covered completely, four recruits arrived with a hastily made tombstone to mark his resting place and, shortly after the stone had been set firmly in its place, Ezio too arrived.

"Mentor." Dogan, whom surprisingly did not wear his mask, greeted the Italian with a salute.

"Now should be a time for remembrance and mourning." Ezio stated to all of them and Desmond wasn't the only one to hang his head. "I know, but our enemies do not permit us that luxury."

Ezio faced Dogan, straightening as respect filled his eyes.

"Yusuf thought highly of you, Assassin, and I find no reason to second-guess this judgement. Do you have it in your heart to lead these men and women, to maintain the dignity of our Order as Yusuf did with such passion?"

"It would be an honor." Dogan replied with a bow of his head, though his eyes never left Ezio's.

"Bene." Ezio's eyes were smiling and proud, a look Desmond had often received in the past. "I am glad."

He focused his attention on all of the present Assassins.

"Our enemy is close. Take positions around the tower. Wait for my command."

Solemnly, the Assassins moved from Yusuf's grave to do as they were instructed, Desmond wise enough not to follow.

He was surprised when Dogan turned to him.

"You have earned this back." Dogan said as he handed Desmond his second hidden blade. "Use it well, Master."

Desmond received the weapon, glancing at Ezio, but found the Italian was too focused on the task at hand to even notice what Dogan had done.

"Don't worry, Master." Heyreddin clapped him on the back. "Love blinds even the aged and experienced."

"Now is not the time, Heyreddin." Dogan stated lowly and Heyreddin immediately fell silent and somber.

"Stay here, Desmond." Dogan told him. "Warn us if Janessaries or Templars or guards approach."

Desmond accepted the task, surprised he would be permitted to join at all.

He vowed not to screw this up.


	9. Quattuor Aquilis

Chapter Nine: _Quattuor Aquilis  
_

It didn't take long for things to go wrong and Desmond was glad this time it was not his fault and he could actually be put to use. Rushing along despite his aching side, he leaped from rooftop to rooftop, killing riflemen aiming for Ezio and his parachute. A few moments later and Ezio had rescued Sophia while the Assassins made short work of cleaning up any stragglers.

Then Ezio was gone with Sophia, encouraging a carriage of horses while Desmond looked on with slight annoyance.

"Gone again!" He waved to the departing Italian when he was approached by Dogan.

"Focus, Desmond." Dogan shoved down Desmond's head and he heard the bullet whiz by.

"I need serious mental help." Desmond muttered as he and Dogan rolled off of the roof to the ground below and the cover it provided. Heyreddin and Kasim finished off the remaining threat.

"We must go into hiding." Dogan informed the two Masters when they reached him and Desmond. "Ensure the novices make it to either the headquarters or a den."

He lifted his hand in a sign of retreat and any Assassins remaining in the area vanished. Desmond quickly searched for novices, finding and locating them to the nearest den for safety while Janessaries and guards began to hunt for the Assassins in the streets. Danger lurked around every corner it seemed. Thankfully, the Thieves and Romanies seemed to have caught on to something big going down because they arrived to show their support, luring guards away or hiding novices in their ranks.

A couple of hours later and Desmond reported to headquarters the novices he'd managed to get to safety.

"We are all accounted for." Dogan advised Desmond get some rest.

"I can't sleep." Desmond grumbled, glancing towards the exit.

All he wanted to do was follow Ezio to Masyaf, an opportunity he now had missed.

Heyreddin took a seat beside where the young Master had chosen to lie down and rest.

"You're going to be leaving soon, aren't you?" Heyreddin cut straight to the point.

"Yes." Desmond nodded. "Likely whenever Ezio reaches the library. I'll probably leave then."

Heyreddin frowned. "I wasted all this time when I should have been trying harder to get you to understand I am serious."

"You can be serious?" Desmond asked dryly.

Heyreddin faced the younger man and leaned in to plant a kiss on Desmond's cheek.

"Yeah...sometimes..."

Desmond kept his gaze from meeting the other man's. "Well, it's probably a good thing you didn't try harder."

Heyreddin didn't agree, but still rolled back onto his back. "I'm going to miss you, my struggling Master. There is no chance we'll meet again?"

Desmond didn't let him fill with false hope. "There is no chance. I am sorry, Heyreddin."

They fell into silence, neither sure what to say in this last time spent together.

Desmond felt warmth infiltrate his body and he decided it was probably best not to wish a goodbye as he melted away from the headquarters.

* * *

Heyreddin stood up, still feeling dazed and a bit empty, and approached Dogan and Kasim on the other side of the room.

"What is wrong?" Kasim asked lightly, casually, unaware. "Did Desmond reject you again?"

"He left." Heyreddin's voice seemed creaky to him and, though his eyes were cast downward, he knew both Masters were now staring at him.

"He left?" Kasim asked for clarification.

"He...went after Ezio."

"And you let him go?" Dogan's voice barely betrayed his shock.

"Yes."

Dogan and Kasim looked at one another in a momentary hush before Kasim questioned, "Is he coming back?"

"No."

Neither stopped him when he turned to seek after the hookah with a plan of spending as much time on it as it took for his fingers to stop shaking.

* * *

Desmond opened his eyes and found himself standing opposite Ezio, whom didn't look the least bit surprised to see him.

"Are we..." Desmond glanced around at the massive open space of stone. "In the library?"

"It is not a library." Ezio informed him. "It is a tomb."

Desmond turned and stared at the throne. How many times would he be paralyzed with the fear of death? He knew Altair had died in reality and his body laid to rest somewhere, but to view it?

He trembled as he approached the throne, glancing back to see he hadn't mistaken the glistening of Ezio's eyes.

A skeletal hand came into view, a finger missing. His heart pumped harder in his chest. Slowly, he rounded the throne and faced the bones of Altair, dressed in robes and hunched over slightly in his seat.

"He died alone." Desmond wept, unable to contain his grief. "Ezio, he died alone."

"I know." Ezio covered his mouth as he held up a final Masyaf Key. "I saw."

Desmond fell to his knees and stared at the skeleton of Altair, tears running down his face despite himself. "I'm so sorry, Altair...I'm so sorry..."

He recalled what Ezio had told him of the sparse memories he had seen: of Altair and Maria approaching Abbas and Maria dying, of Altair's self-induced exile and return to Masyaf and the killing of Abbas and retaking of the fortress, and of Niccolo Polo taking the memories to hide them. Ezio couldn't believe how old Altair had looked, limping along and unable to defend himself except with the Apple he had so loathed resorting to. Just hearing the stories had made Desmond said and miss the Syrian. To know his dear friend had passed away alone in the dark underground broke his heart.

A flicker of blue caught his attention and Desmond jerked, wiping quickly at his tears.

"Ezio..."

The Italian approached quickly, hearing the urgency in Desmond's voice.

"What the..."

They both watched as blue lines like a graph wrapped around Altair, though they showed more a chained and bound man than the skeletal form before them.

"It's Altair from the Animus!" Desmond yelped, reaching for the chains. "Help me! We have to save him!"

"Dezmund..." Altair's voice sounded eerie in the darkness of the chamber. "Ezio..."

"We're going to save you." Ezio promised. "Hold on!"

They grappled at the slippery chains, searching for a hold they couldn't seem to get.

"Use the Apple." Desmond insisted and Ezio rushed up to the waiting artifact.

It had been a mistake to suggest it for the moment Ezio touched the glowing object, light erupted like an atomic blast, rippling into them and sending them into the darkness.

* * *

Desmond awoke in a bizarre dark world with glowing golden light. A man met him there, claiming to be Jupiter. He was shown how the world had ended last time and the hope of humankind being successful this time in saving themselves.

"Wait..." Desmond turned to Jupiter. "But...I don't understand. Why me?"

"You need to ask?" Jupiter smiled at him kindly, but the emotion did not reach his holographic eyes. "Desmond, you are the only one who can do this."

"I can't go alone."

"Your ancestors, Ezio and Altair, are lost to you now."

"No." Desmond stated firmly. "I will get them back!"

Jupiter frowned, but still waved his hand to an invisible wall and the door opening there.

"You have very little time, Desmond. Hurry."

Desmond didn't waste even a second as he rushed through the door. What met him on the other side was Animus Island, which was disintegrating.

"No, Desmond!" Clay was rushing towards him. "Get out of here!"

"I have to rescue Altair and Ezio!" Desmond argued.

"It's too late for them!"

Clay motioned behind him and Desmond felt an intense pain at seeing both men chained, blood coming from their mouths and dark circles around their eyes. Altair was as thin as a skeleton and pale as a ghost. Ignoring Clay, Desmond rushed towards them, grabbing onto the chains, but instead of trying to break them he began to drag the two men towards the doorway.

"What are you doing?" Clay gaped at him, trying to push Desmond away. "No! You'll destroy all three of you! You must leave, Desmond! You have to leave!"

"I will not leave without them!" Desmond insisted, pulling with all of his might as the once slippery chains now sliced into his hands.

"Dezmund..." Altair choked. "Go...l-leave..."

"No!"

"It's too late..." Ezio mumbled, his head rolling around in delirium. "T-tell...Sophia...I love her..."

Desmond pulled harder, his hands ripping open at the strain. Blood ran down the chains, disintegrating every link they touched.

"What the..." Desmond barely thought any further before he began to tear at his own skin and letting the blood run freely over the chains.

"NO!" Clay was screaming, grabbing onto Desmond and trying to pull him away, but Desmond refused to budge.

"Go!" Desmond ordered Altair once the Syrian was free. "Run!"

Altair slowly stood, strength returning to his body and color to his skin.

Desmond continued to use his blood to free Ezio even as energy seemed to be sapped from him.

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" Clay begged. "You're killing yourself!"

Desmond fought against Clay and destroyed the last link holding Ezio down.

"Go! Ezio!"

The Italian stood, trembling, to do as Desmond asked.

Weakly, Desmond also attempted to stand, but found something held him down. Looking backwards he gasped at the sight of the same chains wrapping themselves around his legs.

"No!" He struggled to pull his legs away, but the chains dug deeply into his skin.

"Desmond!" Altair called from the gate. "The place...it's destroying itself!"

Desmond looked up to see that island was disintegrating.

"You idiot!" Clay was tearing at the chains, his nails chipping off and his skin breaking open, but his blood seemed to do nothing to the chains. "Pull your legs out!"

Following those instructions, Desmond yanked, feeling his pants tearing and his skin breaking.

"Run!" Clay ordered, pushing Desmond. "Go! Hurry! Before they latch on again!"

Desmond began to run towards the exit where his ancestors awaited, only glancing back as he started through the passage to see Clay beginning to fall apart with the rest of the island. Then there was only darkness and golden light as he fell.

"Altair!" He called. "Ezio!"

"Here, brother!"

Two eagles swooped around him as he continued to fly through the air.

"We are with you, brother!" Altair promised. "Don't worry. You can go home. We will stay with you! We will not leave you!"

"Wake up." Ezio insisted. "It's time to wake up now, Desmond."

"Wake up?" Desmond glanced at the two birds. "What do you mean?"

"Wake up, Desmond."

The new voice belonged to his father.

He squeezed his eyes tighter, hanging on to the image of the two eagles in flight with him, before his eyes opened, tears running down unhindered, to meet the faces of Rebecca, Shaun, and his father.

"Desmond." Rebecca smiled. "Welcome back to the land of the living, man."

Desmond swallowed and rubbed at his eyes. "Y-yeah."

"How are you feeling?" Shaun questioned as he placed a hand on Desmond's shoulder.

"All right." Desmond couldn't seem to get the lump out of his throat. "Um...w-where are we? Are we still in...you know...Italy?"

His father turned around and opened the van. Brilliant sunlight shone all around them, momentarily blinding Desmond. Then he saw the lush green, large boulders, and enticing cave. Slowly, he stood from his seat, wobbling on the surface of the van's floor, and exited the vehicle to stare at his surroundings.

"Juno..." He mumbled as he stared at the cave's entrance.

A screech lifted his gaze to a nearby tree where two eagles were perched. The one glances at him before it took off, followed by its companion. He smiled, not sure if it was coincidence or irony he had seen the birds.

"I know what we need to do." Desmond said, facing the three other Assassins.

William nodded slowly. "Yes. We were hoping you would."

He held out the Apple towards Desmond whom stared at it, not honestly wanting to take the object. He took it anyways.

"Let's get started then."

Desmond turned towards the cave and whispered hopefully in his head, "Are you there, brothers?"

As he anticipated, he was met with silence, but he didn't lose hope. He had a feeling, they would arrive as soon as he needed them.

He entered the cave without further delay.

* * *

It didn't take long for Desmond's ancestors to join him. As soon as he entered the cave a warm feeling cascaded through his body like hot water running down over his skin. It penetrated deep through his flesh and sent a tingling into his digits. He stopped walking, ignoring the questions of his companions, and spoke out loud.

"Are you there, brothers?"

"Desmond?" Shaun looked at him in worry, but seemed to realize a moment later what was going on. "Oh, lovely. You're still talking to yourself then?"

Desmond paid him no attention as he listened to Ezio's response.

"Desmond, where are we?" Ezio asked in his thick Italian accent.

"A cave in the United States...not sure exactly where." Desmond replied.

"United States?"

"America." Desmond struggled. "The New World..."

"Where that Cristoforo Colombo went thinking he had found the Indies?"

Desmond laughed, having forgotten Christopher Columbus was Italian. "Yeah..."

"Never paid much attention to the New World stuff."

"I figured as much."

"So we're there?"

"Yes."

"Wait..." Altair's voice suddenly interrupted and Desmond felt a great deal of comfort knowing the Syrian had followed them. "What?"

"There was more land discovered past Europe." Ezio explained. "And we're there."

"This is the country I was born and raised in." Desmond elaborated on. "And now you guys get to see some of it."

"Hmm..." Ezio seemed to shrug. "Beats being dead, I guess."

"Agreed." Altair nodded.

"Wait...what?" Desmond's mouth fell open. "Dead?"

"Yes." Ezio continued without hesitation. "A lot happened after we disappeared from the Animus. I woke up in Altair's library and found Sophia over me and quite worried. We returned to Constantinople where we made arrangements to go to Italy. There we married and I retired from the Assassin Order, letting Lodovico Ariosto take over. Leonardo passed away, but Niccolo and I were present. I said goodbye for you. I had a son and a daughter and met with a Chinese Assassin asking for my help. I did help her with knowledge, but could hardly do much else. Then I died in 1524 of a heart attack in the Florentine piazza..."

Ezio had started to get choked up at this point and his following words told Desmond why.

"I...d-didn't get to...say goodbye...to her...or my daughter...I could...s-see them, but..."

"I'm sorry, brother." Desmond rubbed at his watery eyes.

"W-when I opened my eyes again I had found myself in this familiar place: your mind." Ezio composed himself. "And decided it wasn't such a bad thing."

"I also returned to my time to say my farewells to Darim and the Assassin Order." Altair continued. "Before locking myself in my library. When I felt the last breath of life leave me, I awoke here. I agree with Ezio: it isn't such a bad thing."

Desmond nodded, still furiously wiping at his eyes. "I'm still sorry."

"Don't be." Altair sounded like he was smiling sadly. "We are glad to be here with you even though our lives have ended. It is an honor to assist you past the end of our days. I would wish for it no other way...well, I wouldn't mind seeing Maria."

Desmond breathed out a shaky sigh. "I hope you do."

"Can we...um...continue?" Shaun asked encouragingly. "These boxes are kind of heavy."

"Y-yeah." Desmond began to walk. "Sorry. I...uh...well, never mind."

The other three said nothing as Desmond began to lead the way, listening to and answer any of the questions either ancestor had that he could.

"So what are we doing here?" Ezio questioned.

"We're trying to stop the world from ending." Desmond explained. "As always."

"But we're running out of time." Shaun put in. "Hopefully, we're successful."

"I still don't like him." Altair muttered and Desmond laughed.

"What's so funny?" Shaun ordered in annoyance.

"Altair still doesn't like you." Desmond replied with a coy smile.

"Wonderful...like I care." Shaun drawled.

They stopped before the doorway, covered in graffiti, but with the predecessor symbols still visible beneath. Desmond could see the slot for the Apple of Eden he carried and moved it towards the doorway to fit it into the slot. With the door now open, Desmond descended down into the Temple.

"I don't like these places." Ezio mumbled in his ear. "One, it brings back far too many memories and, two, I always feel so...inferior."

"You and me both." Desmond sighed.

"And me as well." Altair added.

Desmond noticed the cube lying on the floor and as if he had done it a million times picked it up to stick into the slot waiting for it. The entire room began to light up, powering the massive chamber with blue lights.

Desmond approached the hologram screen. A pulse rushed through him, causing him to look around, expecting to see something.

"Did you feel that?" Ezio asked in surprise.

"I did." Altair replied.

"The key." An ethereal, yet recognizable voice filled Desmond's head. "You must find the key."

"_Juno?_" Ezio and Altair inquired together.

"Son?" William reached out to grab Desmond's shoulder, spinning the young man around.

It wasn't William waiting for him, but a man from what Desmond figured was the seventeenth or eighteenth century.

"Sir?" The man asked in English.

Desmond turned back around, knowing what was to come next. "Ahhh...here we go again."

Then he collapsed, the voices of Shaun, Rebecca, Altair, and Ezio following him. He didn't even wonder why his father hadn't chimed in with concern. At this point, it seemed natural William wouldn't care. White eroded out his vision and he slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

"Desmond?"

His eyes opened to white surrounding him and he stood rather quickly.

"Do you hear us?" William's voice cut across the white like a knife.

Desmond glanced around the room, noticing Ezio and Altair sitting not too far away, shaking off the jolt of being thrown into the Animus. He started towards them, choosing to ignore his father and the others.

"Are you all right?" He asked and then froze upon seeing how young both men looked. Altair was twenty-five again and Ezio was not far behind at twenty-three. Desmond's mouth dropped. "Uh..."

"What?" Ezio asked as a coy smile crept onto his features. "You didn't think we'd let two codgers help you through your next adventure, did you?"

Desmond grinned, feeling significantly better with the Masters at an age he could relate to.

"Glad you could join me."

"Desmond!" William's tone demanded an answer and Desmond closed his eyes to keep his agitation from surfacing. It was so much easier to get mad at his father than any other person on this planet. "Do you hear us?"

"Yes." Desmond hissed in response then asked coolly. "What happened?"

"The Temple triggered a Bleeding Effect." William replied as Altair and Ezio stood, doing their best not to glare above themselves at the voice. "You collapsed and entered into a fugue state."

"So naturally you dropped him into the Animus?" Ezio shot out, unable to hold in his dislike for the man. Of the three, Desmond had always felt Ezio was the more outspoken, though he had thought age had calmed him. "Instead of making sure he was all right?"

William didn't sound perturbed. "Desmond wasn't in any danger. Besides, the Temple appeared to be communicating with him, and I didn't want to risk severing the connection. At least, not until we knew what it wanted."

"You are the..." Ezio started, but Desmond cut across him.

"All right." Desmond clapped his hands. "Let's get started then, shall we? I know what I'm looking for. A key...I just have no idea where it is."

He paused, his mind wrapping around what had occurred what felt like hours ago in the Temple.

"I guess...that's why she triggered the Bleeding Effect."

"She?" William questioned critically.

"Juno." The three Animus-trapped Assassins all muttered together before Desmond continued with, "Dad...she's...talking...to me."

The Masters accompanying him looked at him in worry, but said nothing as Rebecca prepared to sync Desmond up with a Haytham Kenway in England.

"What will you two do?" Desmond asked of the two as they waited.

"Accompany you, of course." Ezio stated as if Desmond was asking something ridiculous.

Desmond hesitated, not wanting to insult his two best friends and loyal companions, but knowing he had to say this regardless.

"I'm not entirely sure it's a good idea for you to show up in the Eighteenth Century." Desmond stated. "As it is, I have no idea how I'm going to not let this Haytham figure find out I'm possessing him. He'd have a real shocker if you show up beside him."

"What if you show up beside him?" Ezio shot back, doing his best to mask the hurt he clearly felt.

"Ezio." The Syrian cut in. "Desmond has a fair point. It is most convenient if we simply tag along with him. Perhaps we can even suppress the rising thoughts of possible possession before Kenway can figure out Desmond is there."

"It's not possession." Shaun reminded from somewhere above them.

Ezio rolled his eyes. "How about we have it done to you, four-eyes, and see if you think the same afterwards?"

They heard Shaun scoff while Desmond covered his smile.

"I swear." Ezio growled. "It is the worst feeling. Like being invaded and violated."

"TMI." Desmond grumbled.

"What?" Ezio furrowed his brows at the young man.

"Too much information."

It took a moment for Ezio to realize what Desmond meant and then he grew pale.

"Oh...dio..."

"And we're ready." Rebecca announced. "Sending you in...three...two...one..."

The world seemed to shatter and Desmond felt himself being shred apart for a moment before he landed unceremoniously into the mind of Haytham Kenway.

He wasn't entirely shocked the man paused, apparently realizing something was wrong, before shaking off the feeling and continuing. Desmond resisted sighing in relief and concentrated on doing what he had been told. A quick reflection backwards reminded him it had been an incredibly long time since he had tried the whole possession thing. Hadn't it been when Ezio was still a teenager? This gave him a lurching feeling in his gut. He didn't have the experience nor the recollection of time past to be trying this again! He swallowed hard, breathed deep, and begged Altair and Ezio to help him.

* * *

"You had us possessing a Templar?" Ezio shoved William against the nearest wall, his hands gripping the front of the man's shirt hard enough to pop off a button as rage lit across his face. "What if he had figured out we were there, huh? What if we had tried to befriend him? We would have been...been...I can't believe you!"

"Put him down." Rebecca ordered sternly, but Ezio ignored her.

"We killed an Assassin!" Ezio roared. "We killed one of our own and you let us!"

"Desmond." William stated calmly, ignoring the hands tightening on his shirt. "Calm down. It's just a memory. There was nothing to worry about."

"Sto cazzo Ezio!"

The Italian shoved William once before releasing him. The man barely caught himself from landing face first into the floor.

"Ezio..." William choked as the Italian paced the room. "Can you please give my son his body back?"

"When I fucking feel like it!" Ezio cursed some more in Italian before rounding on the man. "How can you call yourself his father, huh? You treat him like...like...I've seen his memories, coglione! I know what you were like to him! I would have fucking ran away too if my father treated me even half as badly as you treated Desmond!"

"How I raised my son is none of your concern." William stated coldly, his eyes barely narrowing as he glared. "Now we have work to do."

"What?" Ezio snorted a bitter laugh. "So you can put us back into the Animus and we can prance around in the body of a Templar until he figures out we're there and puts a stop to it? Stronzo! I'm not letting you torture Desmond or myself any further! Vaffanculo!"

"Shouting at me in Italian is not going to get you what you want."

Ezio stalked up to the man, shoving him with his one arm and flicking out the hidden blade with the other. "This will."

"Ezio, stop!" Altair pushed away from the wall, anger rising into his tone, but of a different kind. "This Haytham didn't discover our presence and we are alive for now. Let's not kill off William until we are sure he's an enemy."

"You're not sure I'm a friend?" William scoffed at them. "I can't believe you two. Is this what Desmond tells you?"

"We can make our own opinions." Ezio spat, glowering at the man.

"And right now we need to think clearly for the sake of Desmond and our world." Altair cut in. "We haven't spent the last few centuries of hard work to let the Templars or the sun win."

"You know," Shaun interrupted, though was pretending to be speaking exclusively to Rebecca. "It's actually kind of entertaining to watch them. It's almost like watching a one-man version of 'who's line is it anyways?' only weirder and not as funny."

"You can shut up any time." Ezio seethed. "Or be useful. What was that anyways? How is it you didn't know Haytham was a Templar?"

"I knew." William put in.

"Of course you knew." Ezio turned to the man like a snake about to strike. "You're a fottuto stronzo!"

"I don't appreciate the tone nor the words you use when you speak to me." William growled.

Ezio didn't seem the least bit phased. "And I'm to be bothered?"

"Ezio." Altair snarled.

"What?" The Italian feigned haughty innocence.

"Where is Desmond?" Rebecca asked abruptly, temporarily pausing the argument.

"The..." Altair hesitated on an answer. "Trauma of discovering he had assisted a Templar caused him to black out. He's recovering."

"Great." Rebecca sighed. "Sit down. I should be making sure he's in good condition."

"What is he?" Ezio refused to obey as he mocked them. "A tool? _Let me make sure he doesn't have any dents or scratches or he might not work!_"

"Well, to put it bluntly, yes, that is exactly what he is." William's harsh tone silenced the Italian with shock. "He's a tool. We need him because he is our only hope of possibly stopping the world from ending and from stopping the Templars from taking over that world if it survives. In all honesty, if we didn't need him we wouldn't be having this conversation because we wouldn't have made any effort to rescue him from the Templars. As long as he is useful, we'll keep him alive and healthy and well. If he becomes a burden rather than an asset in this mission we will leave him behind. Do I make myself clear or do I have to repeat myself?"

There was a long hush as William and the young man glared at each other before Desmond finally spoke.

"Thanks." He was surprised he wasn't shaking or yelling or even crying. "It's nice of you to clear that up for me, Bill."

William said nothing upon realizing his son had heard what he'd said and watched as the young man walked off towards the main screen of the temple. He had said too much and been too honest, but he had needed the Italian and Syrian to understand because, as much as he hated it, he was stuck with them because they insisted on helping Desmond.

"Get back to work." William muttered to Rebecca and Shaun before wandering over to his own notes.

* * *

Desmond plopped down on the dirty floor and lied back, his tattooed arm resting over his eyes.

"I'm sorry." Ezio mumbled into his ear. "I didn't mean to...I shouldn't have baited him like that."

"It's fine." Desmond whispered. "I don't care. It's good to know what he's really thinking. It clears up a lot of...possible misunderstandings."

"Unless this was the misunderstanding." Altair pointed out optimistically. "He could have been..."

"Don't." Desmond groaned. "Just...don't. I know you want me to see the bright side of this and all and maybe you're right, but...I don't want to get my hopes up. I just want to get this business done with and maybe go back...you know...to one of your guys' time periods and live my life the way I want to. I don't know. It's probably not even possible, but wanting that is...it's kind of what's keeping me going right now."

Ezio and Altair glanced at one another, neither wishing to speak out their feelings on the subject for fear of raising or lowering the young man's hopes on the matter.

"Hey..." Desmond's voice drew their attention back to him. "Pretty fucked up, huh? The whole Haytham thing? I can't believe we were helping a Templar."

"Yeah..." Ezio sighed. "Yeah...pretty fucked up."

Altair frowned as the Italian and American conversed. He had had the feeling something was wrong with Haytham from the moment they had entered his body. William's slight tension had also been an indicator of something being amiss, but he had chalked it up to be fear of the Templars in Desmond's time. Now, with confirmation the man was a Templar, Altair highly doubted Desmond would willing step into the man's shoes again, which wasn't exactly a good thing. As much as Altair loathed assisting the Templars and despised being in the Animus, he knew what they were doing was putting them one step closer to defeating the Templars and saving the world. Was it wrong? Yes. Did it break the code? In more ways than he wanted to think about. Was it worth it? He wasn't sure about the answer to this question, but he was hoping it was. With all they had sacrificed, in particular, with all Desmond had endured and suffered, all Altair wanted at this point was success on their mission and happiness for Desmond. He had a feeling though that they'd only achieve one...or none.

* * *

"What the..." Ezio's brow rose as Desmond's mind slowly wandered from the Animus's loading screen to the mind of their next host. "Oh, so we get to listen to her in her native tongue, but you couldn't have done that for Altair and I? Racist bastards. What are those? Are those...words? Are we actually going to have to read?"

"You're just looking for whatever excuse you need to complain, aren't you?" Altair muttered, glaring at the Italian.

"Yes, I am." Ezio spat back. "And I have every right to be. Goddammit...I hate this."

"Quiet down." Desmond hissed. "We're about to possess him."

After a moment of adjusting, Desmond heard Ezio's disgust.

"We're possessing a kid."

"I know." Desmond replied with a roll of his eyes.

"We're possessing a kid." Ezio repeated in growing agitation. "For the love of God, we're possessing a kid! Is this really necessary?"

"Quiet!" Altair snapped, his anger managing to quell Ezio temporarily. "This may be important."

"Sure, it is." Ezio sighed. "Sure..."

As the man began to mutter in Italian, Desmond went off to play hide and seek with the boy's friends.

"We have to suffer through a childhood." Ezio grumbled, making Desmond wonder who the old man was out of the three of them. "This is great."

"I had to suffer through your teenage years." Desmond snarled, his anger flaring up. "In all their perversion."

Altair snorted amusement.

"What'd you say?" One of the children turned towards Desmond and he stiffened upon realizing he had spoken for the boy.

"Nothing." He responded quickly and wondered if the youth of the boy would protect them from discovery. "Let's keep going."

An itch spread across his body and he knew the youth would eventually figure out the truth and Desmond was not looking forward to the pain of the boy trying to thrust the three Assassins out of his body.

"Is he even an Assassin?" Ezio whispered to Altair.

"I have no idea." Altair replied. "But I assume so."

"Shut up the both of you." Desmond muttered under his breath. "You're going to get me in trouble!"

* * *

"This kid's life sucks." Ezio complained as they waited in the loading zone.

"Be understanding." Desmond shot back. "You're life wasn't exactly a bed of roses."

Ezio's brow rose as he pictured Desmond's words. "Is that with or without thorns?"

"Look." Desmond patted the Italian's back lightly. "You seem to be more bothered by the whole Haytham thing than I was and I understand, but we can't get caught. With how Bill's being we can't be guaranteed this...whatever you call him is on our side. He could join up with the Templars and follow in his father's footsteps, so try not to..."

He realized what he had said was the wrong thing because Ezio perked.

"I am not letting a descendant of mine become a Templar!" Ezio stated firmly. "It's bad enough this Haytham fellow did. I'm not going to let Raddy get caught up in that mess too!"

"Ezio, no." Desmond insisted. "We can't..."

"I will make him an Assassin if it's the last thing I do!"

Desmond paled at the thought, knowing how stubborn the Italian could be. Ezio had said the same words when he had vowed to make Desmond a good pickpocket and Desmond had become fairly descent at the task, though by no means the best at it. While this hadn't exactly been the hard work of Ezio which had made it possible for Desmond to pickpocket, he was sure the Italian would hold passionately to any vow he took.

"No...no...no...no..." Desmond turned his face upwards. "Bill! Rebecca! Get us out of here! Ezio's going to do something stupid!"

"It's not stupid!" Ezio was scowling at Desmond like a bull at a matador. "And since when did you turn to them before myself and Altair?"

Feeling abruptly cornered and incredibly uncertain, Desmond gaped at the man wordlessly while Ezio seemed to be focusing on making himself corporeal in the young son-of-a-Templar's time.

"No." Desmond croaked out. "Ezio...you can't...it's bad enough...with me having time-traveled into your time and Altair's...to be outside...to be next to him! That's...we can't!"

"We'll be better suited if it's us three rather than possessing a single man." Ezio stated.

"I agree." Altair put in, finally speaking up.

"Come on!" Desmond argued. "I just want this over with as quickly as possible, guys! Don't put me through all that messy time-travel shit again!"

He received identical glares.

"Not that I didn't enjoy myself there, but...this is the birth of my country we're messing with here. What if we accidentally kill George Washington or something?"

"George who?" Ezio didn't seem at all concerned.

"Great." Desmond sighed as the Animus began to fade around them into a forest. "This is just great."

* * *

"Admit it!" Desmond called to Ezio who had dared to climb a small cliff. "We're lost!"

"We're not lost!" Ezio hollered down to Desmond. "We're just...not where we want to be!"

Sighing in exhausted frustration, Desmond turned to Altair. "We're lost."

"We're lost." Altair agreed. "And I can almost assure you "Raddy" is probably watching us in absolute amusement."

"He doesn't seem the type to be amused by anything." Desmond pointed out. "Like a stereotypical emo."

"A what?" Altair gave Desmond the most perplexed look the young man had ever seen.

"Never mind."

Pacing around the tree, Desmond tried to read for any signs of people in the area, but found nothing. He wasn't a tracker or a hunter, though he figured he could probably learn a thing or two from Ratohnhaké:ton or "Raddy" as they had taken to calling him.

"There has to be a settlement or something around here." Ezio said as soon as both of his feet had touched the ground. "Desmond, you know your history, right?"

"Do I look like Shaun?" Desmond shot back as he huddled in his sweatshirt, wishing he had on as many layers as Ezio did. "Ugh...we need to find shelter. It's getting late."

"Do either of you know how to survive in the wilds?" Altair questioned. "Because this is an entirely different environment than what I am accustomed to surviving in."

Ezio frowned. "I've always lived in cities."

Desmond groaned. "Guys, I live in a place where carriages move without horses and I call someone on a cell phone if I get stranded. Do you honestly think I know anything about survival in the wild?"

They both turned to him and he knew they had already discovered the truth.

"All right." Desmond started walking. "So Bill taught me a few things as a kid."

"A few things?" Ezio inquired sardonically. "I thought he assigned you a book."

"Hey." Desmond flung the man a glare. "Stop browsing my memories."

"As if you haven't been browsing ours." Altair and Ezio stated in unison.

"Not by choice!"

"Well, I didn't have a choice either." Ezio shrugged. "Boredom drove me to it."

"I hate you."

"I'd have to say curiosity may have been a bit for me at first." Altair admitted. "Than it was just depressing, but I couldn't stop."

"Let me amend that: I hate you both." Desmond shivered. "Hey, wait a minute...if you've been snooping around in my memories and know I have survival training, why isn't neither of you remember this training."

"Our brains are only so big, Desmond." Ezio admonished.

"Some clearly smaller than others." Altair added and smiled at the glare he received from the Italian.

"All I've been is learning and learning and learning from you two." Desmond folded his arms. "Why couldn't I have used that excuse for pickpocketing?"

"Because it's a lame excuse." Ezio deadpanned. "And only old people can use it. We might not look it, but we're a lot older than you, Desmond."

"So you're basically admitting you're going senile?"

"A cave!" Altair's proclamation halted the words about to spill from Ezio's open mouth, much to Desmond's gratitude.

"Be careful." Desmond told the two as they started towards the cave. "There might be bears!"

Altair froze. "Good point. We should..."

"Just throw a rock." Ezio interrupted as he picked up a baseball-sized rock and, before either could stop him, tossed it into the cave.

The echoing growl to come from the cave sent all three scrambling up the nearest tree as they watched a furious bear charge from the cave into the forest.

"Sometimes..." Desmond glared at Ezio. "Sometimes you're an idiot."

"Coming from the idiot of the three of us."

"I suggest," Altair cut in. "We find ourselves as much comfort as we can up here and sleep in turns. I'll take the first watch."

Since neither felt they could argue with Altair of all people, Ezio and Desmond each set off to find thicker limbs while Altair watched with growing worries.

* * *

Desmond woke up with a start, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the bright light shining in his eyes, before he oriented himself.

"Are you all right, Des?" Rebecca asked, her hands on his face as she checked his eyes for trauma.

"I'm fine." He waved her off and reached for a nearby water bottle to wet his dry mouth. "What happened?"

"We've..." William hesitated as he glanced at Shaun and Rebecca as if to ensure informing Desmond was the best course of action. "We've established a sort of safety net for when you...time travel."

"Safety net?" Desmond questioned with a raised brow.

"Yes." William regained some of his courage at the lack of hostility from his son. "When you go to sleep while in another time, you return here. It ensures we can keep you from falling into another...dangerous coma."

"And you can still watch too, I bet." Desmond shot.

"Of course."

"Right..."

"But we actually want you to time travel." Shaun cut in, seeming somewhat excited to tell Desmond this. "You see, we've discovered when you do, you actually go...faster. What would take hours otherwise, takes only seconds. We can't look at it all at once. Between the three of us we manage maybe ten percent, so the Animus is rather selective of what it shows us. You've been in the Animus for maybe a total of five seconds since you left the loading screen, but you've been traveling around for hours with Altair and Ezio."

"And where are they?" Desmond snapped, glaring at the three.

"Still back in time." William stated. "But don't worry. They won't notice you gone. The moment you return to the Animus, it will take you right back to where you were, time, place, and everything."

"And I can trust you on that?"

"Do you think we would lie?"

"Yes."

William's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.

"How am I supposed to get any rest if I'm constantly waking up here?"

"You can rest later." William didn't seem the least bit bothered. "Right now, get back in the Animus."

"I'm exhausted."

"You're actually not." Shaun added. "Look, you've only been in there for five seconds, so you should be well-rested."

"I'm exhausted." Desmond enunciated. "How do you not get that? Sure, it's only been five seconds, but I've been marching around for hours in the woods and climbing trees to escape bears."

"Quit being a baby and suck it up." William snapped. "We are trying to save the world here."

"And what do you think I'm doing, huh?" Desmond shouted, rising to his feet. "Why don't you go tag along with Raddy? He's your ancestor too!"

"Oh, real mature." William argued, stepping towards Desmond threateningly. "Don't you understand what we're up against here? We have a time limit!"

"You don't scare me." Desmond hissed. "You did once, when I was a kid, but I'm not a kid anymore."

"Then stop acting like one."

"Okay." Shaun inserted himself between the two men despite the danger of doing so. "How about you take a break, Desmond? You could take a nap and then try to spend some more time in the Animus, hmm? Sound good. I like it. Go do it."

Desmond didn't argue as he wandered away from the three, who immediately began to mumble among each other, no doubt about him and his reluctant attitude. He didn't really care. As he lied down on the cold stone to stare up at the ceiling so far above him, he wondered if they would be successful or if he'd fail. His worries followed him into his dreams.

* * *

"Desmond!"

His eyes opened with a snap and he shoved himself up into a blazing heat he hadn't anticipated.

"What the..." His gaze whipped around, squinting as he tried to peer through fire and smoke as it burned his eyes and throat. "Hey! Anyone there?"

A hand latched onto his arm and he spun to face the person only to freeze, his heart speeding up in sudden exhilaration.

"Luca?"

"Hurry!" The Italian Assassin yanked Desmond through the collapsing burning building and the ex-bartender, stupefied, followed dumbly. "Everyone! This way!"

Desmond's eyes were glued to the back of Luca's hooded head and he barely noticed the Assassins joining him. They migrated with haste towards the nearest exit: the sewers.

Abruptly, the ceiling above gave way and the entire procession blanched backwards, but few survived the collapse.

"Luca!" Desmond helped the Italian stand as he began to realize where he was. "Are you all right?"

"Yes." Luca shook off his surprise and took in his surroundings. "We're...we're trapped."

Desmond swept the room and realized with horror they and two other Assassins were indeed trapped with walls of flame on all sides.

"There..." Desmond choked on the suffocating air. "There has to be a way out!"

Luca took Desmond's shoulders into his hands and looked the man in the eyes. "Desmond...you have to get out of here."

"We're walled in!"

"No." Luca's eyes were speaking volumes Desmond didn't want to see. "You can get out of here. Leave. Time-travel. Do what you must, but get out of here."

"No." Desmond shook his head fervently. "We'll figure a way out."

Luca opened his mouth to speak, but began to cough instead, the smoke snuffling out his words.

"Luca!" Desmond gasped, the inhale sending him into his own fit of coughs. "W-w-wait...I can...get..."

"Go." Luca managed to breathe. "_Please_."

Desmond wasn't sure if the tears were from the smoke or the guilt and sorrow which invaded his chest at the moment Luca began to blur from his sight.

"No..." Desmond pleaded. "No..."

The building shook around them and Desmond's eyes were fixed on Luca's, wide and horrified, but begging nonetheless for Desmond to leave him there. As the structure crumbled round them, Desmond felt himself yanked away.

* * *

Desmond inhaled the fresh aroma of evergreen, eyes wide to a bright forest and clear sky above.

In the same moment, he lost his balance and barely caught himself on one of the branches beneath him.

"Easy there!" Ezio called from the ground. "Don't go breaking your neck, idiota!"

Cautiously and trying to shake the nightmare from his mind, Desmond descended to the grassy ground below.

"I had...a horrible..." He began when Altair reached out to brush his shoulder.

"Did you role in a campfire?" Altair asked with a quirked brow, not anticipating the reaction he'd receive upon uttering such words.

"Desmond?" Ezio approached the ex-bartender, who was now gaping at them in horror and disbelief. "Are you all right, brother?"

"It...wasn't a dream..." Desmond covered his mouth, unable to halt the tears now rushing down his face. "Oh, mio dio..."

"Desmond?"

"I..." Desmond held up a hand to stop the two from any attempt at consoling him. "I just need a few minutes..."

With that, he turned to wander off into the woods, leaving his ancestors to wonder and worry.

* * *

Desmond stretched before dipping his hands into the water of a stream and bringing up enough to wash his face with.

They had been in the woods for months now and made no success in finding Raddy or even civilization. It was as if all human life had disappeared from the face of the earth. Thankfully, they had figured out how to hunt and Desmond had known enough survival skills to get them through each day if barely. Meanwhile, Desmond hadn't returned to the Temple no matter how many times he had settled down to sleep, an act which he was now cautious to perform since it had brought him into flames and ruins of all sorts. He still hadn't told either of his ancestors about the incident, but they hadn't bothered asking either, which he figured was because they knew he'd tell them if it was something they needed to know.

"Desmond!" Ezio called, causing the American to stand and spin around to face the Italian. "I found something!"

"What?" Desmond asked, hope lining his voice.

"It looks like a road." Ezio waved for the man to follow him and they set off to find Altair waiting by the road barely visible through snow, but it appeared to have recently been run through by a carriage. "Well, it's almost a road."

"This doesn't seemed used often." Desmond glanced down one way and then back up the other. "But we'll give it a go."

Winter had already come upon them and, considering their terrible survival skills, they weren't going to survive this season without finding a more permanent shelter and steadier inflow of food.

"Which way?" Ezio asked with a raised brow.

"We'll go that way." Desmond pointed down the road where the horse hooves seemed to point towards. "If we don't come upon anything we'll turn around."

"After how long?" Altair questioned, his fatigued eyes proving just how long they'd been wandering around.

"A day." Desmond stated firmly. "If it looks less used, we'll turn around. All right?"

They agreed, neither positive on the correct answer and both ready for this wild adventure to be over.

* * *

"Do we just go up and knock?" Ezio whispered, furrowing his brow at Desmond. "Or do we..."

"We have to do something." Desmond hissed.

"They may be able to point us in the right direction." Altair pointed out.

The three turned their gazes back to the mansion before them, complete with white pillars and red bricks. A fire lit the windows of one room, but otherwise the home was quiet and still.

"I'll go." Ezio huffed when the other two didn't immediately volunteer. "Besides, I'm the charming one out of us."

"_Sure_." Desmond and Altair replied in unison, receiving a glare.

The Italian marched through the snow and up the few steps to the door. After glancing to either side at the windows, he rapped loudly at the door. There was a long pause as Altair and Desmond leaned forward to listen for a response before they heard a gruff voice call out.

"Leave me alone!"

Ezio's brows shot up, but instead of doing as he was bid he knocked harder on the door.

"I said to go away!"

"Open up!" Ezio shouted back. "I'm only asking for directions to the nearest town!"

There was another pause before the door swung open.

Desmond and Altair's mouths fell open as Raddy stepped into view.

"I am sorry." The youth stated as Ezio stared at him in flabbergast disbelief. "But if you follow that road up the mountain, it will take you to the nearest settlement."

"Raddy!" Ezio's arms spread out wide before taking the unprepared youth into his arms. "I found you!"

Desmond frowned as he watched the Kanien'keha;ka push away from the Italian in clear confusion and a bit of terror.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Ezio Auditore da Firenze." The Italian gave a bow, his face grinning with pure delight. "And you have no idea how great it is to find you."

The young man simply stared at the Italian as if he had grown a second head before abruptly slamming and locking the door. As Ezio's face turned to shock, Ratonhnhaké:ton shouted for his mentor.

"Well, how did you expect it to go?" Altair asked when Ezio approached them. "You and I are supposed to be long dead."

"This is going to be fun to explain." Desmond sighed, rushing a hand over his hair. "Let's just hope the Colonial Assassins believe in time travel as well as the past Assassins have."

"Oh, dear." The old voice brought their gazes around to the front porch where stood an elderly black man holding himself up on a cane. "Well, you better come on inside. You have a lot to explain, I'm sure."

Ezio smiled at Desmond. "See? It's my charm."

"Uh-huh."

The three filed into the house, thankful for the heat and the comfort it provided after so long in the wilderness. In the corner, Raddy watched with suspicion and trepidation, both of which Desmond understood.

"I'll explain." Desmond opted as he took a seat in the parlor alongside his ancestors. "I think...I think I'll be the best one for the job."

* * *

"That's quite a tale, I must admit." Achilles nodded slowly. "If I hadn't already heard such stories, I would doubt it, but seeing as the three of you look so incredibly like Connor here, I guess, it is believable...if barely so."

"Oh, that's a lot easier a name to remember." Ezio grinned at the baffled youth.

"You are my ancestors?" Connor's mouth hadn't shut since Desmond had admitted he was the descendant of the young man.

"Well, Altair and myself are." Ezio couldn't seem to stop smiling. "Mio dio, it's amazing how well people take this information."

"Actually..." Achilles corrected. "Only one of you is his ancestor, though for the life of me I can't actually tell you which."

Ezio's eyes lit. "Oh, I'm sure we'll find out."

"In the meantime," Altair stood. "We should all get some rest. As soon as possible, we'll all train. The three of us have much to pass on to you, Connor, as I'm sure you have much you can teach us about surviving in these...conditions."

Achilles nodded. "Yes. Yes. I'm sure you all could learn from each other. Connor, show them to the spare bedroom. You'll have to excuse the sparse furnishings. We'll get you beds as soon as we are able, though I fear it won't be until winter is over."

"That's fine." Desmond stood to shake the man's hand. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, of course." Achilles' own eyes were glinting. "To be privileged with your presence is more than a man such as myself could ever hope or dream for."

They left him there in the early morning light and followed Connor up the stairs, hoping for rest, but it appeared the youth had more questions than they could readily answer.

"How did you get here?" Connor asked as soon as they were out of the parlor. "Where exactly did you come from? Why are you here? What is your purpose? What is guiding you? Is it really all right for you to come here?"

"Tomorrow." Ezio promised the youth. "We'll answer your questions tomorrow."

They didn't mind their bedding consisted of old dusty sheets and sacks of grain. As soon as their bodies were on the floor, they were asleep.

* * *

"I officially hate boats!" Desmond shouted as Connor steered them through the choppy waters a couple of months after their arrival at the homestead.

"It's a ship!" Robert Faulkner hollered back at him with a look of disdain.

"_I love this!_" Ezio slid along the slippery wood as Connor turned the ship hard to starboard. "I haven't been at sea in years!"

"There's a lad!" Robert grinned approvingly before turning his attention to a rather pale Altair. "You hanging in there, landlubber?"

Altair braced himself on the deck, his hands holding tight to the railing. "I'll...be fine..."

"We're almost home." Robert patted his back before taking control of the ship from Connor.

"Is he all right?" Connor questioned Desmond as they peered at Altair.

"He's not fond of ships...or water." Desmond grinned when he received a glare from the Syrian. "Truthfully, I'm not particularly fond of sailing. You?"

"I could get used to it." Connor admitted with a weak shrug.

Desmond didn't miss the envious look Connor cast over him and he had no doubt where such jealousy sprung. Within only a month of living at the homestead, the three Masters had been outfitted with Assassin's clothes befitting the era while Connor still wore his Mohawk attire. Proud of his heritage, the youth made no comments, but Desmond knew the young man saw donning the garments as a sign of him being prepared enough to face off the Templars.

"Soon." Desmond gave him a reassuring clap on the back. "For now, keep training."

"It feels like it never stops."

"I know." Desmond chuckled lightly. "Believe me,_ I know_. I've been in training for as long as both Altair and Ezio combined almost and I'm still learning...clearly, because you're teaching me. That's fine though. It's all right to always be learning. You just have to grit your teeth and bear through it. It'll get easier as time goes on."

Connor didn't seem as sure, which Desmond understood, but accepted the answer regardless.

The arrival back at the homestead was followed by fiercer training as Connor learned the ways of the Assassins and the Assassins learned the ways of the lands. Not surprisingly, Altair was excelling proficiently while Desmond struggled to keep up. Ezio, however, seemed to have a few tricks up his sleeves as one day he bested Altair in a race where they could not touch the ground, only sticking to the trees.

"You've been holding back." Altair tried to catch his breath while Ezio silently gloated.

"No..." Ezio's grin was fierce. "Well, maybe."

"And why is that?" Altair pressed a hand to his aching side.

The pride faltered on Ezio's face. "W-well, I mean...I died...I was old...I'm kind of worried my body isn't...ready for this."

Desmond grimaced and looked away, his heart fluttering. The reminder his two best friends had passed away already made his stomach churn and his throat thick.

"You...died?" Connor gaped at his ancestors.

It really did feel like the young man learned something new every waking minute.

"That's a depressing subject." Ezio waved away his thoughts, but Desmond could already see how much those words now weighed on both the Italian and the Syrian.

They had died. They had felt life leave them and then a moment later they had found themselves in Desmond's mind. It was no wonder they worried their bodies were still frail and old and weak. Though he caught glimpses of their personality from their days of youth, he couldn't deny how much age had taken its toll on their personalities. They, in particular Ezio, did their best not to let it show too much to Desmond and Connor for fear of worrying them, but the ex-bartender had known them both too long now. He knew how much it bothered them and how much it hurt them. They had families they had left behind to assist Desmond. Huge portions of their lives had been dedicated to helping Desmond when they could have been spending this extra time with those they loved and cared about. Though they all understood this extra time wasn't really possible to spend in such a manor, Desmond knew they felt this way. Logic didn't extend far into the heart as it was governed by emotions. In this case, these emotions were strong and resentful and bitter, but they were loyal and dedicated and stubborn. He was sure these reasons were the only ones gluing Ezio and Altair to his side. While he felt they cared for him and wished for the world to survive, more importantly they desired for their efforts to not have been in vain.

"Desmond?" Altair's hand on the ex-bartender's shoulder brought him from his reverie. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." Desmond feigned a smile he knew Altair did not buy. "I'm going to go work on tree-climbing. It's hard, but...easier than being a pickpocket."

Altair almost smiled, but failed to. "If something is bothering you, brother..."

"I'll tell you about it, I promise." Desmond reassured the Syrian. "Thank you."

Nodding, Altair let Desmond go, but his eyes followed the man for several paces before deciding he needed to focus on honing his own skill if he wished to be of any assistance to those around him.

* * *

Connor stared at the uniform in disbelief while the Masters around him looked on in encouragement.

"Well, go on." Achilles pressured lightly. "Before I change my mind."

"Thank you." Connor didn't waste any further time gawking and swiftly took the clothes to change.

Desmond faced his companions and spoke in Italian so neither Achilles nor Connor could understand. "Are we sure he's ready?"

"It is his mentor's decision." Altair pointed out.

"I wasn't ready." Desmond declared. "I was definitely not ready to wear that outfit. I mean, don't get me wrong, I was appreciative, but I could have waited longer before I was given a hidden blade."

"Perhaps." Ezio agreed. "But as Altair said it is his mentor's decision. We have no place nor any right to object."

"Well, I don't, but you do."

Altair was frowning now, but shook his head before leaving the cellar.

"Ezio..."

"I know." The Italian nodded. "I agree with you. I think Connor needs a lot more training and I think his desire for revenge is too strong as mine was. He has a lot to learn and he has very little time to learn it in. I want to go against Achilles and had I known it was his intention to gift Connor with this I would have spoken up against it, but...you saw Connor's face. It's the first time I've seen him look happy since our arrival and I would hate to be the one to bash his hopes."

Desmond turned upon hearing Connor reentering the room, eyes giving a quick search before resting on Achilles.

"It suits you." The old man said plainly before leaving to follow Altair.

"Where is Master Altair?" Connor asked nervously.

"Trying not to get all teary eyed." Ezio lied with a grin, which caused Desmond to smile as well since he knew that was the last thing the stoic Altair was doing. "A new Assassin! We're lucky to have you it seems."

Connor almost smiled and Desmond decided it was best not to do anything about the youth's early initiation. They would simply have to work around it and continue his training in hopes no bullheadedness surfaced due to it. He crossed his fingers.

* * *

Lying in the fresh spring grass and staring up at the shivering leaves above him, Desmond relaxed for the first time in days while several clearings away Altair and Ezio honed Connor's skill with a sword. It had been rather stressful trying to push Connor harder in his training without raising the suspicions of either Connor or Achilles. He knew they'd failed to hide anything from the perceptive old man, but he remained silent on the matter and let them do as they saw fit.

In the meantime, Desmond couldn't help noticing the increase in settlers in their area, which was good and bad all at once. They didn't seem to be bothered by the clear combative training the four participated in, but Desmond wasn't sure how long this acceptance would last. The British were closing in on war with the Colonies and, though Desmond knew the outcome of said war, he had no idea if they would be successful in other areas with the Templars. Meanwhile, each settler here was a potential traitor to their cause and each to come would increase the chance Haytham learned of their operations and intentions. As it was, convincing Ezio and Altair to keep a nearly invisible profile outside of the homestead's surrounding lands was next to impossible. Ezio wanted to look around and, in particular, see the women while Altair was growing bored of climbing trees and cliffs. All three longed for buildings they could easily free-run on, but each was worried of what would happen if Haytham managed to identify them. Ezio and Altair were the most famous of the Assassins and, while common folk were unlikely to know them, the Templars were an entirely different story. They didn't have a lot of help either as the Colonial Assassins were all, but destroyed, leaving only Achilles and Connor to back the time travelers up if they got themselves in trouble. Desmond didn't see either as much help right now.

"Oh, oops."

Desmond rolled away, but was still caught by the sudden slosh of water cascading over him.

"I'm so sorry." The man apologized hastily, setting down his now nearly empty bucket. "I'm really sorry, sir."

"It's fine." Desmond dabbed at his face with the dry side of his robes and glanced at the man. The first thing Desmond noticed was how big and bear-like the man was, his bright orange beard and hair standing out stark against his white skin as a million freckles dotted all visible skin. He was a picture-perfect Irishman, but his accent was anything but. "Oh, um...we haven't met, have we?"

"My name's Isaac." The man introduced himself as he thrust his hand out towards Desmond. "I'm a sailor on the Aquila. I work beneath Mr. Robert Faulkner."

"And Connor." Desmond nodded slowly.

"You're...Ezio." Isaac smiled at what he assumed was a correct guess.

"Desmond, but close."

Isaac gave a laugh. "Well, I've never met triplets before, but I'll try to figure out how to get it right."

Desmond didn't bother correcting the man.

"Again, I'm sorry, sir." Isaac picked up his bucket. "I can offer you a pint though as recompense, though I admit I don't have much more I can offer you."

Smiling at the man's thick drawl, Desmond nodded. "Yeah. I could do with a pint...just a pint though."

"A pint's all I got to offer."

A few short minutes of conversation found them on the Aquila enjoying far more than a pint and Desmond had no desire to refuse the alcohol.

"I didn't think you'd be such pleasant company in all honesty, sir." Isaac snorted, clinking his tankard against Desmond's in a silent toast. "Doesn't seem like any of you type are."

"We used to be more pleasant, I assure you." Desmond smiled around his mug.

"Sometimes you talk so old." Isaac laughed loudly, missing the remorse to flit through Desmond's eyes. "Tell you what, sir, you should come round more often. We're always up for company and all. We get bored, you see, of each other."

Desmond rolled his eyes. "You should convince your captain to let you sail to port more often. You might meet a pair of legs to chase."

Realizing almost instantly what he had said was more appropriate for the Italian Renaissance than the Colonial Revolution, Desmond fumbled over a response while Isaac gaped at him in disbelief.

He was grateful when the sailor laughed again, just as loudly as before.

"You must of spent some time with the wrong sorts." Isaac came to this conclusion after only a few seconds. "But, yes, most of us agree we should spend more time in port if only to chase a pair of legs."

"Only most?"

"Some of these men be married, you know."

"Only some."

Isaac was grinning. "What about you lot? Why don't you spend more time looking for legs?"

Desmond chuckled. "Well, some of us are married."

"Nah, I don't believe you."

"Well, were, I guess, would be more appropriate." Desmond resisted the frown trying to form on his face. "And, Connor...I don't think he'd know what to do with a pair of legs if they sat themselves down in his lap."

Isaac howled with laughter at this and was barely able to compose himself for his next question. "And where are you, sir? Was married or helplessly confused?"

Desmond set aside his drink as a smile took over his lips. "I wouldn't really call me married or unmarried or helplessly confused. I'm sort of...used and alone."

Nodding in understanding, Isaac agreed. "A lot of men are used and alone. That's why we should be in Boston. We could find ourselves some women who are just as used and just as alone."

Suspicions confirmed, Desmond decided now was a great time to excuse himself before the liquor went too far into his head and made him do something he'd regret later.

"Well, we'll have to do that sometime." Desmond stood. "And that was more than a pint, my friend."

Isaac grinned. "You seemed like you needed it, sir."

"Thank you." Desmond started off. "We'll have to do this again sometime!"

"Yeah, but next time you bring the ale!"

"Will do!"

He took the long way back to the homestead as he tried to clear his veins of the toxin and his mind of the thoughts which had poisoned it.

"You look like you lost a fight with a bear." Achilles commented the moment Desmond walked through the door.

"I kind of did." Desmond muttered as he entered the parlor where Ezio and Altair were trying to explain the philosophy of the Creed's tenants to Connor.

* * *

"I keep meaning to ask." Connor turned towards the three time travelers as they started back towards the manor after a hard day's worth of training. "But how is it all three of you have the same scar? How did you get them?"

"I got mine while training beneath my dad." Desmond admitted casually, though he noticed the look Altair and Ezio gave him. "I said the wrong thing and...pop..." He made a slow motion of getting punched. "I think it was his nail or maybe his ring that got me."

"And we all know Ezio got his from a rock." Altair snickered at the glare he got from the Italian. "And I got mine from a skirmish with some Templars. I won of course. It was my first fight against them."

"But all in the same place?" Connor's brows pinched. "How?"

"Hey, Connor?" Ezio stopped the young man. "How did you get your scar?"

"What scar?"

"This one."

Altair and Desmond pounced on the Italian, yanking him back from the now bleeding Connor.

"Ezio!" They shouted at him simultaneously as horror washed over their faces.

"What?" The Italian shot back. "It was bothering me! Now, we match!"

Needless to say, Connor avoided Ezio as much as possible from that day forward...he also asked a lot less questions.

* * *

"Ow!" Desmond dodged the follow up swing and rolled away from Altair's next attack. "Hey! Since when did you attack me randomly?"

"You need to exercise your mind." Altair stated. "For too long you've let your skills stagnate from inactivity. You need to be ready for sudden attacks. You cannot be taken by surprise. In this battle, such a thing could mean your death."

"Altair." Desmond whined then ducked from another swing. "We should be focusing on Connor!"

"Our own skills still need honing and what we have learned through our lives should not rust from an arrogance telling us we do not need to practice." Altair shifted into a fighting stance. "Attack me."

"This is ridiculous." Desmond rolled his shoulders, loosening the tightness in them from just waking up a few moments before. "Attack you? Just like that?"

"Decide your best approach and attack." Altair clarified.

"Hmm..."

Desmond's eyes rushed over Altair's seemingly calm body, but he knew the robes of his outfit hid his tense muscles. He collected Altair's sturdy stance, his raced arms, the wide placement of his feet, and death glare he was casting at the young American. With a sigh, Desmond made his choice.

* * *

"What happened to your face?" Connor asked as Desmond slumped into a chair. "Did...Ezio..."

"No." Desmond chuckled. "This is from Altair."

"Are neither of them safe to be around?" Connor questioned in wide-eyed horror.

"Pass me that steak." Desmond waggled his finger at the freshly cut meat and the youth hastily did as he was bid. "They're not bad. Ezio can be...sporadic sometimes. I think he thinks he's funny. Altair...we were just training."

"But you are Masters."

"Masters still train."

Sitting down across from Desmond, Connor watched the other press the cold meat to his bruised face. "Desmond..."

"Yeah?"

The younger man hesitated and Desmond eyed him worriedly.

"You can tell me."

"Do you worry?" Connor asked, eyes refusing to meet the other Assassin's. "Do you worry you will fail? That all you have done has been for nothing?"

Desmond's eyes narrowed as they searched the Mohawk's nervous features. "What's really wrong, Connor?"

"I am...afraid." Connor admitted. "I am afraid my father will win."

Stomach tightening, Desmond shifted in his chair and cast his gaze outside a window where Ezio was begrudgingly following Achilles' order to chop firewood.

"There's that...chance..." Desmond paused and then smiled at Connor. "But he won't. It's not pride...I wouldn't call it confidence either, but he won't. You simply have to trust that."

"You are certain?"

"No." Desmond reached out to pat the young man's arm. "But he won't."

Though confused over this response, Connor accepted it.

"I am going to go train some more." Connor informed him. "Are you coming?"

"I'm going to spend a few more minutes with this steak." Desmond grinned at the young man, who almost smiled before starting out of the house.

A few minutes later and Ezio came in to drop a pile of wood beside the fireplace. He glanced at Desmond and smirked at the sight of him.

"Altair said you were nursing a wound, but I didn't think you'd be treating it with our dinner."

Desmond snorted as he set the steak down on a nearby plate. "Achilles is putting you to work, I see."

Groaning, Ezio wiped at the sweat on his brow. "This is harder than fighting."

"It's so amusing how you've never really worked a day in your life."

"I've worked." Ezio growled, glaring out the window at the woodpile waiting for him. "Just not this kind of work."

"This won't last long. Enjoy it."

"I'll be glad when we can actually do something useful."

"We're helping the Colonial Assassins get back onto their feet. This isn't a bad thing."

"Yeah...more like building our own little village from scratch." Ezio rolled his eyes then seemed to remember something. "Hey, who was that man you were getting all friendly with?"

"Huh?"

"Don't play innocent." Ezio lightly smacked Desmond's shoulder, causing the young man to wince. "Red hair. Sailor."

"Isaac." Desmond replied. "And no. There is nothing there. Don't try playing matchmaker because you fail at it. If you want to hook me up with someone, try someone from my time."

"I have considered Shaun."

Desmond barely recovered from the laughter to overtake him.

"Dio buono, brother." Desmond chuckled. "That's just...no."

"Well, he's a stronzo, but he's around you all the time." Ezio grinned. "It could work."

"Gross."

"He doesn't look too different from that Isaac compagno, brother." Ezio pointed out with a widening grin. "Well, aside from being skinnier and wearing those...er...spectacles."

"Glasses."

"Stessa cosa." Ezio waved his hand absently. "He's a perfect canidate!"

"No."

"Why?"

"He's an asshole and an idiot."

"Not all of your interests have had wonderful personalities, Desmond."

"I don't like him." Desmond stated flatly. "And furthermore I doubt he is that kind of guy. Not all guys are keen on getting all touchy feely with other men!"

"What are you talking about?"

The two turned to see Connor standing rather stricken in the doorway, eyes blinking and mouth having fallen open.

Ezio was the first to respond, much to Desmond's dismay.

"We're discussing Desmond's affinity with men. He's been at a loss for getting himself a companion and we've been trying to find him one...well, Altair and myself."

"Thank you." Desmond growled, glaring at the Italian, who only shrugged.

Connor didn't seem to know how to respond for a second and then his mind abruptly caught up to their words. Instant relaxation took over his features and he almost smiled. "You are two-spirit?"

Desmond blinked, staring at the young man. "Um...what?"

"You are two-spirit." Connor repeated, this time with assurance. "You have both a man's and a woman's spirit inside of you and the woman's spirit drives you to pursue men. This is good. Women are highly respected and powerful."

Ezio covered his mouth to keep from laughing as Connor stared at them with fierce sincerity. Desmond smiled.

"Thank you." He told the young man. "I'm glad you understand. Many never do."

From that day forward, Desmond felt as if he and Connor had finally clicked as friends, the young man no longer feeling threatened by him or intimidated by his potential power. For Desmond, he couldn't have asked for things any other way.

* * *

**:P I love reading. You find out so much just by typing random stuff into Google search: such as Two-Spirit. It made my night :D**

* * *

"Holy shit!" Desmond grabbed at his chest and fell unceremoniously from the Animus onto the cold floor. "The fuck!"

"You're gay?" William's voice brought Desmond's gaze upwards to stare at the man's infuriated features.

"See, I said that's exactly what you're _not_ supposed to say." Shaun approached the two and reached over to help Desmond stand, but the other refused the offer. "All right, sorry, for just yanking you through time, but..."

"Yeah, I'm gay." Desmond cut across Shaun's words. "What of it?"

"Cool." Rebecca nodded her approval. "Getting it on with hot Assassins from the past. Awesome."

"And you call me sick because I find two women kissing..." Shaun was again interrupted.

"No one wants to hear your fantasies." Rebecca told him.

"You are seriously gay?" William's fierce tone defused the argument.

"Seriously." Desmond shot back. "Is that a problem?"

William stared at Desmond for a long moment, but eventually shrugged. "As long as you're serious, no, there is no problem."

"So why are you mad again?" Desmond called after the now departing man.

"You two can argue later." Shaun stepped up to him. "We've got a problem and I'm pretty sure you're the only one here who can help us fix it. Ready to practice your Assassin skills in this world?"

Desmond's brow perked. "Oh, crap...what are you guys going to have me do?"

* * *

"This is crazy!" Desmond pressed himself to the side of the tall building as a strong wind rushed about him. "You do realize the tallest building I've ever climbed is the Galata Tower, right? Which is put to shame by this!"

"Don't be such a baby, Desmond." Shaun encouraged. "You'll be fine."

Desmond exhaled. "Okay...I need to think about something else."

"Perhaps you should be focusing..."

"No...talk about something."

Rubbing his hands together, Desmond tried to relax.

"Did you...how much of my conversation with Ezio did you three hear?"

"All of it."

William's answer made Desmond's anxiety skyrocket.

"Okay, see that's a moment to lie." Shaun put in. "But, yes, Desmond, we heard all of it."

"I thought the Animus was picky and you had only a few seconds to survey me?"

"Well, you haven't exactly discovered anything useful." Shaun muttered as Desmond began to climb. "And the Animus jumps around. It's tracking you, but not chronologically. You were also in the Animus for a couple of days there."

"Wonderful and none of you thought to pull me out sooner?"

"You were fine." William stated.

"You were doing all right." Shaun corrected.

"Why are you suddenly being so nice?" Desmond snorted.

"He's trying to be socially acceptable." Rebecca snorted. "He'd hate to offend any homosexuals."

Desmond laughed as Shaun denied this adamantly.

"I just feel sorry for him and grateful he convinced Ezio not to try to hook us up."

Distracted by this, Desmond misjudged his jump and barely caught himself on the edge.

"_Are you all right?_" All three Assassins gasped as Desmond pulled himself up.

"Dandy." Desmond breathed out shakily. "Yeah. Ezio likes to play matchmaker."

"Fun fact." Shaun replied tightly.

"Well, it'd be a tragedy if you two hooked up." Rebecca tossed in. "I mean, Desmond at least is good-looking. If he got with you, everyone would start wondering how much money you have tucked in your pockets."

"Are you implying I'm not good-looking, charming, and many other things I clearly am?"

"You think you're charming?"

"I am charming."

"You're kidding, right?"

"What?"

"You actually think you're charming?"

"You actually think I'm not?"

"Focus." William cut in as Desmond began his ascent.

"What about you, Bill?" Desmond decided to dare the question. "Why are you angry at me even though you "have no problem with it"?"

"I assumed you were just messing around." William replied calmly and coldly. "You don't really seem like you take your life very seriously, most importantly the roll you play in the grand scheme of this world. I simply made the assumption your romantic life would be made up the same way."

"You really know how to be an ass." Desmond spat. "And my romantic life is none of your business."

"Well, since we're on the topic and it'd be good to know," William's words were making Desmond's skin itch. "You didn't get any girls pregnant in the past did you, because that could prove awkward for all of us?"

"I'm _gay_."

"Well, were you always gay or is this a recent development?"

"Ugh..." Desmond wiped a hand over his face in frustration. "I don't want to talk about this with you."

"You seemed perfectly fine talking to Ezio and Altair about it."

"Yeah." Desmond gritted his teeth. "I'm a bit closer to them than I am to you."

"That's not my fault." William pointed out. "And I am currently trying to learn more about you, but you are refusing to let me."

"No..." Desmond corrected venomously. "You are...being...an ass...and trying to make sure I didn't do anything stupid in the past."

"Making sure you were responsible is not me being an ass." William's own voice dripped with toxin. "And did you ever mature past your teenage years because I honestly see no difference in your personality now than when you ran away."

"Cazzo...and, yeah, you could say it is a recent development. I've only been interested in guys here for the past couple of months, but since I've been living years in the past, I've been gay for a long time. This means, no, I haven't impregnated any girls!"

"Good." William huffed. "But you've had boyfriends?"

Desmond frowned. "I wouldn't really call them that."

"Taking a page out of Ezio's handbook?" Rebecca giggled.

"No..." Desmond replied glumly. "It's not something I want to talk about."

"Well, you started this conversation." William stated.

"I'm at the top." Desmond steadied himself as he ignored William's snort of disgust. "What next?"

* * *

"Why is it I never feel safe here?" Desmond asked as he plopped down on one of the many jutting rocks in the temple. "Jeez..."

"This isn't our fault." William stated.

"I know."

As the others discussed plans to keep their location hidden, Desmond tried to settle the queasiness of his stomach. He had to get back to Connor's time, but a nervousness had spread through him. They were fighting a battle none of them were sure they would live through. Time was running out and Desmond felt like he was wasting it.

"There has to be a quicker way." Desmond stated, standing. "There has to be a much quicker way to do this."

"Well, I'm sure there is, but we just don't know it yet." Shaun informed him.

"Ezio and Altair know what to look for." Desmond reasoned aloud. "If I simply jump forward in time..."

"Can you actually trust them not to mess things up?" William questioned skeptically.

"Yes." He had no doubt in his voice. "Look. We're short on time. We have to do this. If you send me forward, I have a greater chance of..."

"But it could cause you harm." Shaun protested. "Sending you leaping through time when you're not synchronized to your ancestor is difficult. If it was Ezio or Altair..."

"They're there." Desmond reminded him. "They are right there with Connor."

"But it doesn't show up in the Animus." Shaun explained. "You have to be fully synchronized with Connor in order to pop into his life at any point. You never synchronized with him and, though he seems to be close to you, it's not the same."

"Give me solutions, not more problems."

Shaun fidgeted beneath Desmond's glare before turning towards his station. "Rebecca, is it possible to override the synchronization and push it? We might not be able to put him where we need him exactly, but we can probably throw him a bit closer to the destination."

"I can give it a go, but baby isn't going to like it." She responded.

Desmond took his seat in the Animus and was surprised when William approached him.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm not the idiot who lives his life half-assed like you think I am." Desmond snapped back. "Whenever you're ready, Rebecca."

"System override seems to be working. Here we go."

"Good luck." William mumbled as Desmond fell into white.

* * *

"He's going to be fine." Achilles informed the waiting Assassins in the parlor. "The doctor says he just needs rest to regain his strength...but I would like to know what happened and where he was. Neither of you two seemed surprise he left for all that time."

"He...travels a lot." Altair replied coolly. "Returning to his time if he needs to."

"Right." Achilles shook his head slowly. "And for what purpose?"

"This battle doesn't end with Haytham." Ezio continued. "Hundreds of years in the future it is still waging, but time is running out. It is up to Desmond to win or the whole world is destroyed and even the Templars won't survive."

This admission brought silence from all of them and it took time for any of them to find words.

"He's been gone for two years." Achilles pointed out. "Why?"

"Time is important." Altair tried to explain. "No doubt he knows this. He probably decided to try and get closer to the truth and skipped ahead."

Connor frowned darkly from where he stood.

"Very well. Very well." Achilles shook his head. "I didn't really expect to hear answers I would understand, but he can't become a liability."

"He won't."

"And you are a hundred percent certain of this?" Achilles' eyes bored into Altair's. "Because he's not been a liability in your times?"

Ezio flinched lightly, but came to Desmond's defense. "He has never been a liability."

"Ah, but you're lying." Achilles' eyes now tore into Ezio. "I know the stories. He was an amazing Assassin, sure, but he was a lot of trouble, constantly putting a strain on the other Assassins around him, in particular in Istanbul."

"We all had a lot of stress on us in Istanbul." Ezio ground out.

"Yes. Yes. Yes. So the writings say, but they make special note of Desmond. It wasn't until 1520 that he finally became of use to the Assassins there."

"Desmond wasn't in Istanbul in 1520." Ezio's brows furrowed. "He left in 1518, the same year I did."

Achilles' own brows scrunched in confusion. "He never left Istanbul. He took up a new name and stayed in Istanbul for the next twelve years until he mysteriously went missing, never to return. It's the last record we have as Assassins of Desmond."

The four Assassins stared at each other, neither quite sure how to take this information.

"Desmond returned to Istanbul?" Ezio blinked. "But...why? He's made no mention of this!"

"He might not have done it yet." Altair stated. "Or he may have just done it. Either way, we should proceed with caution on this subject."

They all agreed.

* * *

"CONNOR!" Desmond shouted after the young man, but Ezio stopped him from pursuing him.

"Killing Pitcairn is his business!" Ezio insisted. "Ours is to fight here."

"But..."

"You've been gone a long time, Desmond." Altair told him. "He's a different person...he's an incredibly different person."

Desmond frowned, but followed the other Assassins' orders to stay.

Connor had changed. The closeness he had thought they'd had was gone now. Two years spent misisng was certainly enough to dissipate any possible friendships. Even Isaac had left for brighter horizons, fleeing the inevitable war. Desmond supposed he shouldn't have been surprised, but he constantly longed for the close relationship of a mentor and his student. His mind frequently reeled back to Rome and Raffaele and Enrico and...Luca. He missed having students. He missed training others. He had wanted to train Connor, but felt his mission was more important. Such selfish desires had to be put aside for now.

He hid behind a log as bullets rained and smoke clouded around them.

"Ezio..." Desmond nudged the Italian, who gave him a worried look. "We don't win this battle, you know!"

The Italian grinned. "Your books didn't anticipate myself and Altair here, Desmond."

The young man returned the smile. "You're right. They didn't!"

Ezio went returned to the homestead feeling a little less confident in his own skills.

"I can't believe we lost."

"Pitcairn is dead." Connor stated. "That is what we went to do and that is what we did."

Desmond opened his mouth to compliment the man, but Connor slid away before he could say anything.

"Don't worry." Altair clapped Desmond on the back. "He'll come around."

"No..." Desmond abruptly imagined Raffaele and shook his head to rid himself of the image. "He won't..."

* * *

**This is all the chapters from the original Animus Vox. Now, just because the chapters are so long right now, does not mean I'll continue to write such ridiculously long chapters. They will be their usual shortness of under 2,000 words. Thank you for your dedication. A special thanks goes to the guest, A Straw, and to Skywardsteffi who both helped me retrieve my missing chapters and a thank you to everyone who gave their support during my silly blunder. :) Thank you all again!**


	10. Deteriora Fieri

**Well, I had loads of cute witty little comments I was going to make about the troll who bombarded my reviews (mostly referencing Harry Potter because I'm just that non-creative), but I took too long and decided (for the better good) against my initial desire. Trolls are nothing new to me. Reading slash of any form, writing of any kind on the internet, and posting art of all types on the web will force one to encounter trolls. Luckily, we have tools to protect ourselves and we don't even need a wand or mithril armor to do so: block and report abuse because, while trolls will argue they are doing nothing of the sort, their ranting, their flaming, and their threatening is all a violation of the sites they choose to troll on. Reacting in any other form encourages them and lessens your argument to the admins. Think of it as being physically abused by someone. If you hit back, the police can't help you much when you report it to them. It's crappy, yes, but it is the most effective way to deal with them. **

**Now, some will argue I am simply not handling a review well. This is not the case. I receive reviews all the time and I handle them just fine. Sometimes, I do get overly sensitive. This is my fault. Trolls, on the other hand, are an entirely different story. They purposely seek out things they don't like so they can barf up their hatred on the "culprit who dared to do something they don't like." If you took the liberty to actually investigate this troll's profile than you would understand that he/she already didn't like the content of the story, but chose to read it anyways even though I had placed warnings in the summary. He/She read the story (not even, they claim to have scanned it) for the single purpose of telling me they didn't like it or anything it contained. They said nothing constructive about it, provided me with zero ways to improve the writing other than deleting it, and furthermore threatened to flame me if I continued to write. **

**I'd like to clear up that I am not saying all this to gain sympathy. I am telling you all this for two reasons. One, I would like you to know this is the most effective and best way to deal with a troll, so you don't go through the pain of arguing back with them and getting nowhere because I've been there and you don't want to. Two, I would like to thank the guest and Nona Anon who stood up for me. It is greatly appreciated and your words helped me feel better about my own actions in handling the troll. **

**This all said, I've spent far too much time on this topic and would like to get back to writing this fanfiction as I would like to finish it at some point. XD Oh, you'll all be proud! I'm playing the game again. My boyfriend gave me an ultimatum: play it or we won't order AC4. The ploy has worked. Of course, I'm also playing Prince of Persia: The Forgotten Sands, which made me absolutely amazed there are not that many AC and PoP crossovers. I sense an approaching plot bunny. **

**ACK! Enough of my rambling! Onward! To the story!**

* * *

Chapter Ten: _Deteriora Fieri_

Desmond rested his head on the table while in the cellar Achilles and Connor argued for what Altair described as "the hundredth time."

"Are they always like this?" He asked grimly as Connor's voice raised.

"They do not see eye to eye." Ezio commented. "Much like Altair and myself."

"You've gotten, surprisingly, better though."

"And they will too."

Desmond's brows rose. "Okay, but Achilles is _old_. Connor better hurry it up."

"I am not old enough for you to worry about my potential death."

Desmond's smiled over at the approaching man. "Sorry."

Abruptly Connor entered the kitchen, anger on his features as he snapped out, "Or you could just admit that you were wrong."

Their argument continued for only a few moments longer before Achilles abruptly introduced a man by the name of Benjamin Tallmadge whom none of the Masters had noticed earlier. All three stood up in unison, eyes wide and surprised, but neither the new man nor Achilles or even Connor paid them any mind. After a brief explanation for the sake of the intruder, whose father apparently had been apart of the Order, Benjamin encouraged Connor to accompany him to Boston.

"Wait!" Desmond stood up hastily. "I'm coming with you."

"No." Connor held up his hand. "You're not."

"I would like to help, Connor." Desmond argued.

"It is better if I go alone." The younger stated. "And for you to stay here."

"But..."

"He is right." Achilles cut in. "Stay."

Glancing at Altair and Ezio for support, Desmond found they also agreed and he had little choice in the matter, but to slump back into his seat while Connor and Benjamin left the home.

"Why?" He shot at Ezio, whom he had expected above all others to be on his side.

"Because you tend to make a mess of things." Ezio replied. "It's kind of pathetic, but..."

"You're getting better." Altair added when he saw Desmond's gaze waver with uncertainty. "But I agree with Ezio."

Desmond was frowning as he stared at the men, his instincts kicking in. "What are you hiding?"

Tension filled the room and Desmond felt his gut tighten upon finding he was right.

"What are you hiding?" He repeated in a harsher tone.

"Desmond..." Ezio started, hesitated, and then continued slowly. "Did you...go to Istanbul?"

"With you, yes."

"No..." Ezio almost laughed, but instead his words followed, strained. "By yourself."

"No..." Desmond's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Because our records say you did." Achilles threw in for the Italian. "It says you were in Istanbul for twelve years."

Desmond's heart beat slightly faster at hearing this words, but he spoke before he could dwell on the thought for too long. "I'm on an important mission. I wouldn't randomly jump over to the past unless I had to."

"I see..." Ezio mumbled. "Well, where were you?"

"I was helping the Assassins in my time." Desmond explained. "Remember the Temple? It needed a power source, so I went and collected it. You know, I'm glad neither of you were there. You probably would have freaked out. It was pretty intense."

"So you were off doing a dangerous mission all by yourself?" Altair nodded approvingly. "It's about time."

Desmond rolled his eyes. "It's not as if they weren't helping me out."

"So when were you going to share your adventure with us?" Ezio asked with slight excitement in his voice.

"Er...I don't know." For a moment, he considered giving them a quick run down of what had happened, but then he was telling them the details.

It wasn't until late that night when he settled down for sleep that he finally let it sink in what Achilles had told him. He didn't give in to hope, but the thought still danced around in his mind. He knew he wouldn't be traveling to Istanbul while trying to solve this next piece of the puzzle. This mission was too important. This didn't mean he couldn't travel there afterwards when it was over. He tried hard not to let this thought excite him too much. He knew it meant he survived. He knew it meant he was able to leave behind Abstergo and the modern Assassins for a chance at a life he could build up on his own. He didn't want to get his hopes up, but the thought made hopes rise without thinking.

He had a hard time falling asleep that night.

* * *

"He survives." Altair stated to Ezio as they sat on the roof of the homestead and peered out at the surrounding woods. "And he travels to Istanbul."

"Heyreddin is probably the reason why." Ezio replied glumly.

Altair understood the Italian's mood. They had both wanted Desmond to return to the past for hope he could find happiness there, but each had secretly and selfishly hoped he'd join their lives. As Altair thought about it, he knew Desmond wouldn't have burdened them with his arrival if given the opportunity to pick a life. To further discourage Desmond, Luca was dead making a return to Italy rather painful while Karim made Alamut equally difficult. The next possible place for Desmond, aside from the Davenport Homestead, was Istanbul where Heyreddin was. Though Ezio had been certain the Ottoman would have made Desmond uncomfortable with a return, Altair figured time spent at the Homestead would probably help heal Desmond's old wounds and Connor's cold attitude would be a sure way to chase him off.

"Altair?" Ezio's voice brought the Syrian back into the moment.

"Yes?"

"Do you think...he finds happiness?"

Altair frowned. "Remember what Achilles said? He didn't say Desmond lived in Istanbul for twelve years until his death. He said he mysteriously went missing. My mind keeps wondering what happened. Did he actually die or did he...travel? In particular, did he time-travel?"

Ezio nodded slowly. "I keep returning to these words as well. I wish I knew."

"We could probably find these stories of him." Altair suggested. "If we asked Achilles for them."

"No..." Ezio sighed, rushing a hand over his hair. "If Desmond saw them..."

Altair agreed without hesitation. "This is complicated."

"In too many ways."

"I'm sure he finds some form of happiness though." Altair told Ezio with as much certainty as he could manage. "We shouldn't worry ourselves with it."

"You're right, I suppose." Ezio muttered wearily. "I'm going to bed."

"Rest well, brother."

Ezio snorted a response and then left without further word while Altair remained, lost in his musings.

* * *

**I am apparently exhausted, so it is pretty hard to think of what more to write for this chapter. Hopefully, a Dr. Pepper and a Monster can bring me back into proper consciousness to write the next chapter. :D I hope you enjoyed and I'll post soon!**


	11. Argentum Oblinit

**So I'm now working more days at work, which means I can type more on my fanfiction. XD I love my job.**

* * *

Chapter Eleven:_ Argentum Oblinit_

"He's in jail!" Desmond shouted, mostly in disbelief though partially in anger. "I knew I should have gone with him!"

"And somehow land in jail alongside him?" Ezio asked coolly, receiving a glare. "What? You know it's true."

"We'll figure something out." Achilles stated calmly. "Don't worry. He knows he has allies."

"In the meantime, we have to somehow figure out how to protect George Washington."

"Don't worry over it." Benjamin, who had been the one to inform them of Connor's imprisonment, reassured them. "Thomas Hickey is in jail with Connor."

"Not for long, knowing the Templars." Altair stated. "And if this Haytham is as resourceful as we've found he will no doubt ensure a way for Hickey's release."

"You seem to know an awful lot about Haytham considering you've never met him." Achilles observed, eyes narrowing slightly.

"He's a Templar." Desmond came to Altair's rescue. "They're all alike. Resourceful. Smarter than we care to admit. Assholes."

Ezio chuckled at this. "So we should head to Boston then? We will have to come to his aid in some way or another."

"I have a feeling I'm not going to like this." Desmond groaned before helping his fellow Assassins prepare for the trip.

* * *

"That was far too close for comfort." Desmond stated as he lowered his musket only to see the Templar Hickey begin moving through the crowd. "Ezio!"

The Italian spun on his heel at his friend's shout and lifted his pistol, but lowered it in the same motion, knowing it did not have the necessary range nor accuracy for the job. Connor was shoving through the crowd, his tomahawk in his hand, but Desmond's heart still raced as he reloaded his gun with fumbling hands. Calm settled over him the moment he noticed Altair standing not too far away from Washington. If Connor failed, at least, Hickey would die by the hand of the Syrian.

Desmond watched the younger Assassin land the killing blow and relief flooded through him. At the same time, he melted from the world.

* * *

"Sorry, Desmond." Shaun stated as Desmond tried to reorient himself. "We've found another power source. How do you feel about Brazil?"

Desmond forced a grin. "Sounds great."

* * *

"We've found another one." Shaun announced just as Desmond began to sit into the Animus.

"What?" He stood back up. "Already? Where?"

"Cairo." Shaun replied, glancing at Desmond.

"I guess, Connor will have to wait." Desmond mused.

"No. You stay." William shook his head. "We need to find that key and time is running out. I'll make the trip."

"Are you sure?" Desmond eyed his father in a mix of worry and a lack of trust in the older Assassin's skills. "What about Cross?"

"Everything's going to be fine." William reassured him with a pat to his shoulder, which Desmond quite nearly shied away from. "I'll be back soon."

As the older man turned to leave, Desmond tailed after him. "See that's what bothers me. You saying that is just like you announcing it's not going to be fine at all!"

"Pessimistic much?" Shaun called as William turned to Desmond.

"We need you here." William stated sternly. "More accurately, we need you in the American Revolution. See if you can't skip ahead again."

Desmond grimaced. Without full synchronization with Connor, skipping through the young man's life was nearly impossible.

"Bill..." Desmond continued to argue, but his father would have no more of it.

"Do this, Desmond." William glared at his son. "Do it now."

As the older Assassin left the Temple, Rebecca called Desmond back to the Animus.

"He'll be fine." She reassured him. "He's tougher and smarter than he looks and I'll be monitoring him the entire way."

Desmond couldn't resist frowning.

"Look on the bright side, Desmond." Shaun threw in. "Now he's not here to boss you around."

He almost smiled, but couldn't bring himself to.

"I'm ready."

"All right." Rebecca took her seat. "Let's go."

* * *

Desmond's eyes opened slowly to a familiar smell, though he couldn't immediately place it. It wasn't until he heard the words being spoken that he registered where he was. He sat up sharply, eyes flying about wildly until they rested on Dogan and Kasim speaking in hushed voices not too far away.

Standing, he immediately drew their attention.

"Desmond, wait." Dogan came over to force Desmond back into a sitting position. "You are still recovering."

"I'm not supposed to be here." Desmond argued, pushing Dogan back. "I'm sorry. I need to be...elsewhere..."

Dogan frowned briefly before once again shoving Desmond down. "And right now you should rest and explain to us what is going on."

A sick feeling had filled his stomach and it had nothing to do with feeling irresponsible for being in Istanbul rather than the Colonies.

He had been wrong. He was in Istanbul now, which meant his guarantee he survived this dilemma was now gone.

"Explain." Dogan demanded.

"I wish I could." Desmond finally responded gloomily. "I guess, for now, I'll just spend some time here and hopefully be of use."

"Since when?"

This new voice made Desmond's ears sting and he looked up to see Heyreddin approaching, a warm grin on his face.

"Couldn't resist me, huh?" The man said victoriously. "Glad you're back."

"Yeah..." Desmond feigned a smile and decided it was probably best not to let them know how much arriving here dampened his hopes. "Me too."

It had been a long time since the last time he had felt this miserable, but a part of this misery was eased the moment Heyreddin plopped down beside him, pulling a hookah in closer to offer him.

"You haven't changed at all." Desmond laughed, his throat sore despite his determination not to show how much he was bothered.

"You seem to have." Heyreddin's eyes were knowing. "How long have you been gone?"

Desmond rested back on his elbows. "You know, I think I'll let you guess."

* * *

**Wow. I just now realized how close I am to the end of AC3. Eek! Which means, I'm also closing in on the end of this fanfiction. Eek! Ah, well. As much as I love writing it, it turned out far longer than I had originally anticipated. I have no idea how many more chapters I have left on this. I'm thinking ten, but I could be wrong. If I am wrong, it's because it's less than ten. I hope you're all enjoying this so far! And I'll post soon!**


	12. Dolor et Voluptas

Chapter Twelve: _Dolor et Voluptas_

Desmond felt Heyreddin shift in his arms and knew the man was now awake. He waited, nearly holding his breath, not wanting to waste a single second.

"Des..." Heyreddin's voice croaked into the morning air. "You're going to bruise my ribs."

"Sorry." Desmond eased his grip and Heyreddin rolled over to look at him, a smile in his eyes.

"What has you so uptight lately?" Heyreddin reached out a hand to grab a fistful of Desmond's hair and pull him in for a quick kiss. "Dogan said things will clear up. Don't stress so much."

Desmond wasn't worried about things clearing up though. Almost twelve years had passed blissfully in Istanbul. He had never felt more like an Assassin than he had while working alongside Heyreddin and Kasim and Dogan. Amazingly he had even been useful and not once had any of his fellow Assassins had to rescue him. Of course, he was constantly reminding himself he had only twelve years to spend here before he would be yanked away again. Why had he caved to Heyreddin then? It was only going to make leaving all the more painful.

Worse, he hadn't bothered sharing this information with Heyreddin or the others. According to Achilles, he had left mysteriously and never been heard from again. Though he wanted to confide in Heyreddin concerning this, he was afraid of how it would affect the Ottoman to learn Desmond would soon be gone.

"You're worrying." Heyreddin announced, pressing a finger into Desmond's scrunched brow. "What is wrong?"

"I'm..." Desmond hesitated and then sat up, sighing. "Sorry, but you know how I feel about..."

Heyreddin's eyebrow rose as he waited for Desmond to continue until it was hiding behind his bangs. "What's _wrong_, Desmond?"

"It's just..." Desmond tried to push past the block in his throat. "I mean...I never know when I'm going to be gone."

Except he did. Why had he lied?

He didn't dare look at Heyreddin because the frown and concern he knew he'd find would have shaken even more off his willpower.

"Maybe you won't."

He hadn't wanted to hear those words.

"I probably will."

Heyreddin now sat up, depression lining his aging features. The bright charismatic light which had been in his eyes twelve years ago had dimmed considerably during their time together, though Desmond doubted it was because of their relationship. The man had matured significantly, just as Desmond had, and with such maturity some of his easygoing side had diminished.

"You are always so pessimistic." Heyreddin stated, his voice almost a growl. "Can't you be at least a _little_ optimistic?"

Desmond opened his mouth to admit the truth, but then clamped it shut.

"Don't worry too much about it." Heyreddin draped an arm over Desmond's shoulders. "Or you'll get grey hairs. And if you're worrying about me, I'll be fine. I'll miss you, but I'll be fine."

Sighing, Desmond finally faced the other man and smiled. "Good, but to clarify I want you to promise me you won't wait up for me."

Heyreddin was frowning. "Don't put expectations on me. Just because I'll be fine doesn't mean I'm going to...damn it, Desmond. Sometimes, I swear you are purposely insensitive."

Desmond stood, not wanting to think about how Heyreddin would wait for him with no guarantee he'd return.

"Hey!" Azize shouted from the other side of the door. "Hurry! Dogan's found the last, or hopefully the last, of the Byzantine resistance!"

Both men were already yanking on their clothes, tightening clasps and fastening buckles.

"Hey, Des." Heyreddin caught the man before he had left the room to plant a kiss to his lips in haste. "Try not to die."

Desmond grinned. "Yeah. You too."

It was a ritual he knew he'd miss.

* * *

Desmond's sword was a white streak in the minimal light as he took down his opponents. Several feet away, Heyreddin was just as easily defeating each foe and it didn't take long for either's enemies to begin to give them a wide birth, hesitant to approach. Desmond didn't taunt them, merely eyeing them patiently, while Heyreddin encouraged with crude insults. It caused Desmond to smile a little.

A Byzantine lunged and Desmond cut him down before slicing into the next and then the next. How he had ever thought this was hard once upon a time was beyond him. In only a few short minutes, their work was done.

"Where's Dogan?" Heyreddin called up to Azize.

"I don't know!" She replied from her perch in the rafters. "He was..."

"He's dead." Kasim's announcement drew them all into a chilly silence as he entered the room, his robes covered in blood and his arm twitching at his side. "I'm sorry...I tried, but..."

Desmond was the first to regain control.

"Did any escape?"

"A few..."

"Than Azize, Heyreddin, and I will chase them down. Return to Istanbul. We'll sort out a change in leadership as soon as we are done here."

Kasim nodded dismally as he left the room.

"Azize?" Desmond called to the rafters and heard her sure response. "Lead the way."

* * *

"I advise for Kasim." Desmond stated as they stood in the library of the main headquarters in Istanbul. "Or Azize."

Kasim shook his head. "I am not fit for the position. My arm...I don't think...the doctor said there wasn't much he could do."

"Malik Al-Sayf had only one arm and he lead the Order fine enough." Desmond informed the man. "More than fine, really. I'd say maybe even better than Altair."

The other man did not seem as sure.

"I believe either Kasim or Azize as well." Heyreddin put in. "But it's up to you two to decide."

Azize was staring hard at the ground and Kasim didn't look like he wanted to be apart of this conversation anymore.

"I...it's my fault." He finally murmured. "It's my fault Dogan..."

"It isn't your fault." Desmond's tone was harsher than it probably needed to be. "People die. End of story."

All three of the Ottomans were now staring downward, none happy with Desmond's words.

He rushed a hand over his hair, agitation in his movements. "Look. I might sound insensitive, but it's true. It isn't your fault and you have more than proven yourself in the past to be a capable mentor. You as well, Azize."

"I don't want to." Kasim's bitter tone was enough for Desmond to know he wouldn't convince the man.

"Nor do I." Azize cut in. "I want to start a family, Des. I can't do that if I'm always risking my neck."

"Why don't you?" Kasim looked straight at Desmond. "You've had the tutelage of both Altair and Ezio and you have clearly improved since we first met. Even Dogan...even Yusuf would agree you're more than fit for the position."

"No." Desmond's fists were tight at his side. "There is never any certainty I won't just disappear and return to my time. That would be just as bad as me dying. This Order's past two mentors have each died young. They don't need a third."

"You're young?" Heyreddin tried the joke, but even he didn't laugh at it. "Fine. I'll do it."

Desmond looked at him, somewhat surprised.

"What?" Heyreddin crossed his arms. "No one else is willing...unless you all have a complaint about me taking over?"

When he'd seen each shake their head, he shrugged.

"Then it is settled. I'll be the mentor."

"A formal..." Kasim's words were cut off.

"There's no need for a formal induction." Heyreddin waved off the idea. "Dogan didn't get one. I don't need one. Just let everyone know and I'm sure they'll be fine. I'll write a letter to Lodovico in Italia to inform him of the change of command."

Desmond's gut tightened upon reminder Ezio no longer led the Assassin Order there, having passed it on to Lodovico Ariosto upon return from Istanbul in 1512.

Suddenly, he was leaning against the table, nearly unable to breathe while Heyreddin and Azize rushed to his side.

"Desmond!" Azize gasped, trying to see what was wrong. "What's...are you all right?"

"I'm fine." He choked, holding up a trembling hand. "It's just...it's...ugh...I sometimes wish I didn't know half of what I know."

"What do you mean?" Kasim whispered as Heyreddin started to relax a fraction.

Desmond steadied his breathing and straightened, again assuring those around him he was fine.

"It's...well..." He hesitated, not sure if it was right of him to inform them. "D-don't be surprised if you receive bad news from Lodovico."

"Bad news?" Heyreddin's eyes widened. "What kind of...is there anyway we can help?"

"No..." Desmond fidgeted beneath his lover's gaze. "It's...Ezio dies this year."

They all stared at him, eyes wide and bewildered, before they managed to lower their gazes.

"I see..." Heyreddin mumbled, his gaze searching the floor. "I'm...sorry..."

Swallowing hard, Desmond nodded. "Yeah...me too."

They didn't discuss it again.

* * *

**I think this is all I'm getting for tonight. I'll update tomorrow. :D**


	13. Nec Surgere

**Woohoo! I finished the game! Yay! I'm so relieved! XD**

* * *

Chapter Thirteen: _Nec Surgere_

For some reason the blankets felt itchier than Desmond ever remembered them. The pillow was lumpy and uncomfortable. Rocks seemed to appear out of no where beneath him. He stared at the ceiling and listened to Heyreddin as he snored in his sleep, every once and a while mumbling incoherently. It stirred something in Desmond to know this would all be gone soon and he was torn between waking Heyreddin for ill-timed passion or enjoying the quiet of his lover's presence for perhaps the last time.

His hand flinched at his side before he lifted it, nearly placing it on Heyreddin's arm, but instead letting it drop back down. Now he willed Heyreddin awake, staring at the back of the other man's head in hopes Heyreddin would stir and tell him everything was going to be fine. When this did not happen, Desmond carefully slipped away from their bedding to walk the shadows of the quiet headquarters.

The past few nights had been as sleepless as this. He was too worried about leaving and for this reason could not enjoy even the silence of Heyreddin's presence. Part of him wanted to ravage the man, so he could never forget the feel of the Ottoman. The other half wanted to push Heyreddin away, so when he left it didn't hurt as much.

It wasn't just losing Heyreddin either. Istanbul was his home. It had been for twelve years now. Azize and Kasim were his friends and he had many recruits he would still like to see rise to the rank of Assassin. He had work needing to be done. Heyreddin needed help stabilizing the Order after the loss of their Mentor. He was sure the man could do it alone, but...

He didn't want to leave Heyreddin alone.

Again he was unsure if he was being selfish or if he was worried about how Heyreddin would actually react to being left behind. Sure, the Turk claimed he'd be fine, but would he?

Desmond leaned against a railing, butterflies squirming in the pit of his stomach.

Deciding he was being selfish, he tried to reason with himself about how this could also be a good thing. They were nigh inseparable now. Maybe, distance was what Desmond needed in order to get his mind to think straight. It couldn't be healthy to have his thoughts this filled with Heyreddin when he had important business to be attending to. It was bad enough he had indulged in the man's passion when he should have been helping the Modern Assassins and Connor.

"You're still worried about leaving." Heyreddin whispered huskily as he stepped out of the shadows. "Why now all of a sudden, Des? Things were just fine."

It was now or never...

"I'm going to go soon." Desmond managed to answer and he could see out of the corner of his eye as Heyreddin froze. "I've...kind of known this entire time..."

He didn't dare look at the other man, knowing the Ottoman had enough to be concerned with without learning this as well.

The Turk sighed heavily as he came over to press his arms to the railing. A glance at the man's face showed Desmond how much age had been added to the Ottoman's features upon hearing this news.

"I had a feeling you knew." Heyreddin muttered, bitterness in his voice. "But I didn't really care. I wanted to live in the now rather than dwell on the later. I guess, it was selfish."

"I've been the selfish one." Desmond whispered back.

"Yes...you have been." Heyreddin smirked lightly. "But you haven't been alone."

Silence fell between them and Desmond shifted in it, uncomfortable.

"Let me love you one last time though, at least." Heyreddin suggested, straightening and facing Desmond.

"Please." Desmond smiled and watched the Ottoman return it sadly.

Desmond later admitted to himself they'd done better in the past, but he had a feeling he would only ever remember this time.

* * *

"How are you feeling, Des?" Shaun asked as Desmond lay in the Animus, not wanting to get up. "Talk to me, Desmond."

"I'm..." He coughed, sore and shivering. "...fine..."

"Take it slow." Shaun advised, watching him. "You've been gone a long time."

"Great..." Desmond blinked his eyes open, finding even the darkness of the Temple to be too bright. "How long?"

"A few days."

"Wonderful."

"Don't sit up yet!"

Desmond ignored the man as he sat up, noticing he was naked and quickly accepting the offered towel.

"What happened?" Desmond questioned, finally focusing upon Shaun.

"There was a power surge of some sort." Rebecca explained. "It zapped you backwards...apparently, to where you wanted to go. It took a while to get everything back online and running again."

"Wait..." Desmond held up his hand and glanced at her. "Was everything off line?"

"Yeah..."

"What about Bill?"

Shaun glanced at Rebecca, but quickly snapped his attention away as if he realized he shouldn't have.

"What's happened to Bill?" Desmond ground out.

Rebecca gave him an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Des. Abstergo has him."

Desmond glared. "Where are they keeping him?"

"Italy." Shaun replied. "Where they were keeping you."

"All right." Desmond stood, looking pointedly at Shaun. "Get me some clothes."

* * *

Desmond wondered if he was now suffering from Hero Syndrome. William was an asshole, there was no getting around it, and they didn't get along, but Desmond had this strong compulsion to save him anyways. He was risking the world, risking Altair and Ezio and Connor's hard work, risking Shaun and Rebecca's diligence, risking his father, to save an asshole he didn't even really like, but that was the thing: William was his dad and he had a feeling even Connor would try to save his own father if he could.

It turned out spending twelve years in Istanbul had paid off. He wisely refused to take the elevator and made his own way up the first four floors, fighting guards and getting past secure doors. He even bested Cross in hand-to-hand combat after first disarming him of his gun. All it had taken was a feint one way and then a brief wall run to take the man out. Defeating Vidic and his men was even easier since Desmond had the Apple. Though he had done all this, he knew better than to think his actions had slowed or harmed the Templar Order in any way. Loss of a few men, even important men like Vidic and Cross, wasn't going to even dent Abstergo. Regardless, he had successful rescued his father and that was enough for him.

"You shouldn't have, but..." William looked at him with appreciation. "But thank you."

All appreciation disappeared on their way back to the Temple.

"You didn't even make any progress these past few days!"

"It's not his fault!" Rebecca came to Desmond's aid. "The Temple had a surge, probably because of the various solar flares...maybe...I don't know for sure."

"Well, this is just great." William sighed, running a hand over his hair. "So where were you during that entire time?"

"Istanbul."

"And did you learn anything?"

"I got you out of Abstergo when your own men couldn't do it." Desmond replied calmly.

"We were relying on Lucy."

"Well, I still got you out of Abstergo."

"At least, I see you haven't matured much." William muttered dismally. "Hopefully we can rectify this. Because of the time travelling, we've made more progress than we would have otherwise, but you still have years to cover in an incredibly short period of time. I hope you're ready to pull overtime."

"I have been pulling overtime."

"Even more overtime."

"It wouldn't be the first time." Desmond grumbled.

He was thankful for the silence at the same time he loathed it as his thoughts instantly flew to Heyreddin, wondering how the other man was doing...or had done...without him. He figured he'd never know.

* * *

**Getting closer! :D**


	14. Veritas Dig

Chapter Fourteen: _Veritas Dig_

"Where have you been?" Connor pointed at Desmond accusingly, eyes lit with a fiery anger fueled by a sense of betrayal. "You left. Again. Are you going to be of any help or are you going to continue to be useless to us here?"

Desmond crossed his arms, choosing not to rise to the defense. He had arrived back in the Colonies a few days ago, but had been forced to travel the distance from Boston to homestead alone while heavy spring storms thundered down on him. Altair had found him when he was almost to the homestead and Desmond had given a brief excuse as to why he had been gone, but intentionally left out his trip to Istanbul. He had been hopeful of Istanbul being a sign of his survival and he knew Altair and Ezio had thought the same. He didn't want to lower their hopes, so had decided he wouldn't inform them.

"Altair tells me you were forced to team with Haytham." Desmond stated factually, getting straight to the point. "And will have to again."

"What does it matter to you?" Connor spat, glaring at Desmond.

Altair faced Desmond. "We'll be riding for New York as soon as this storm passes."

"If it passes." Ezio added gruffly.

"I will ride alone." Connor informed them, giving both the Mentors warning glances. "I have been doing fine without your aid."

"Fine." Desmond didn't want to argue. "I'm here for only one reason anyways. Helping you isn't it. If you want to work alone, do it. You don't need our help. While you're off doing that, we'll make sure the Aquila is in top condition and keep our eyes on Washington. Sound good? Good."

Desmond turned on his heel. "I'm getting changed into some dry clothes and then getting some sleep. Don't bother waking me if you leave."

He missed the face Connor pulled as he left the room.

* * *

"You were rather harsh on him, don't you think?" Ezio asked as the three made their way to the harbor where the Aquila waited the following day. Repairs were still underway from when Connor had sailed the ship to the Caribbean.

"He did this on his own before." Desmond stated. "That's what our records say anyways. He doesn't need my help. Neither did either of you. I was just sort of there to learn, though mostly to get Apples of Eden and things like that. I wasn't of any use. Being here doesn't make me of use either, even with my training. I just want to get this mission done with and call it good."

"Why the sudden urgency?" Altair questioned.

"We're running out of time."

"We know that." Ezio snapped. "But something's different. You're hiding something. What?"

Desmond knew they were seeing through him, but he refused to tell them the truth.

"Being in my time...it sort of drove home how much we need to get this done. Our numbers are dropping by the day and, even if we manage to save the world, I'm not sure we'll be able to save it from the Templars too. I don't want to see my time...controlled."

He knew they didn't buy his words, but they didn't push the subject.

* * *

"He must of gone to Istanbul." It was the only conclusion Altair could think of and, by the dismal look to cross Ezio's features, the Italian had thought the same. "I saw the way he was moving through the trees earlier. He had forgotten how briefly, but picked it up too fast. He's been practicing on rooftops. I could tell."

"So he went..." Ezio shot back the whiskey, feeling it burn his throat. "And now he has nothing to look forward to...and neither do we."

"He doesn't want us to know." Altair paced the kitchen. "No doubt because he worries it will bother us. I suggest we keep our knowledge of this to ourselves."

"So then we're all keeping secrets from each other?" Ezio glared at the Syrian.

"It would trouble him if he knew the truth."

They stared at one another and Ezio knew what Altair was thinking.

There was only one ending to this. If Desmond had his way, he'd return to Istanbul and they would have records of it, but there weren't any, which meant he didn't return to Istanbul when he completed his task. Thus, either he failed...or he died.

Neither spoke this conclusion aloud because neither wanted to accept it as true.

* * *

"Bad news!" Ezio rushed into the parlor and both Altair and Desmond rose to their feet. "Washington is intending to launch an attack on Connor's people. We must hurry!"

Desmond was already rushing past Ezio. "Altair, ride to Washington and see if you can't convince him otherwise. Ezio, track down Connor and inform him before Haytham does. I'll ride to the village and see if I can't warn them."

Ezio and Altair exchanged a quick glance at Desmond's taking charge, but made no attempt to argue.

"I'm ponying a horse." Desmond said as he saddled up his mount. "It's a long ride."

"Sound plan." Altair tossed a saddle onto his steed. "We'll meet you back at Washington's camp when this is done with."

"Fair." Desmond tied the extra horse's lead rope to his saddle before mounting. "Safety and peace, brothers."

It wasn't until he was well on his way that Desmond realized he'd spoken his farewell in Turkish.

* * *

**These last few chapters seem really difficult to write, so I'll apologize now if they seem a bit flat and boring. I'm sorry. :( I'll try to make the coming chapters a little more interesting...try being the key word. I'll also apologize for how short this last chapter is. I couldn't think of any way to extend it without making it a whole chapter longer. :(**

**Ah, well. Worse things have happened. :D**

**And ponying is where you lead an extra horse along with the one you're riding in case I didn't make that clear. XD**


	15. Naves in Horizonte

Chapter Fifteen: _Naves in Horizonte_

"I'm sorry, Connor." Desmond said as he watched the Mohawk kneeling before his slain friend. "I'm so sorry, Connor..."

Connor stood and Desmond identified tension in the young man's shoulders before he turned to glare at Desmond.

"You are sorry?" Connor lip curled, fire entering his eyes. "Is that all you ever are, Desmond? Sorry?"

"What do you want me to say?" Desmond asked calmly. "I know how you feel. I'm sorry. I wish I could have...I wish there had been something I could have done."

"Yeah?" Connor stalked towards Desmond, anger in his steps. "Like what? Get in the way? Be useless?"

"I know." Desmond replied, watching as Connor's rage built. "I haven't been any help and I know you've heard the stories of my inability. I'd like to think I've risen above that, but...I'm sorry, Connor. I should have been more help, but I haven't been."

Connor's fist flew and Desmond ducked before parrying a second swipe.

"Connor..." Desmond growled in warning as his mind recalled plenty of fights with stubborn recruits. "Don't..."

The other Assassin ignored Desmond and threw another punch, which Desmond stopped with another parry before throwing his own punch. The fight escalated within moments, each seriously intent on hurting the other.

"You are useless!" Connor shouted in his rage, grabbing Desmond's hood and yanking him towards a tree. "Pathetic!"

Desmond reached back to grab Connor's robes and they both slammed into the tree.

"Get yourself together, Connor!" Desmond yelled, rolling onto his feet. "We have to stop Charles Lee!"

"Since when have you cared about stopping Lee?"

Connor grabbed a handful of dirt and tossed it at Desmond, temporarily blinding him and giving Connor the opportunity to tackle him to the ground. Punches were flying and it was all Desmond could do to hold up his arms for protection while he tried to think past his fury. Arching his back, he threw Connor off of him with a quick twist of his body, but he didn't make it to his feet in time before Connor had pounced again.

"Fuck, Connor!"

Desmond elbow connected with Connor's face and the Mohawk stumbled back, momentarily stunned, which gave Desmond enough time to turn him around and shove him hard against a tree, one arm twisted behind his back and pinned.

"We're on the same side!" Desmond snarled, jostling Connor. "I'm sorry your life has been so crappy, but it isn't my fault! I'm sorry I was gone! I'm sorry I had to spend my time elsewhere, helping my people and my family, and I'm sorry I couldn't be here to help you! All right? I'm sorry!"

Connor didn't say anything as he glared determinedly at the tree, his face red from the beatings and blood running down from his nose.

"I'm going to let you go." Desmond stated, his breath still ragged. "And you're going to go stop Charles Lee and your father. Understood?"

Connor gritted his teeth, but nodded slowly against the rough bark.

Against his better judgment, Desmond released the other and wasn't surprised when Connor turn and swung again. He was able to dodge the blow and was thankful when Connor decided it was best not to continue fighting.

"I am getting my horse." Connor muttered bitterly, wiping at the blood now dripping from his chin. "You can do whatever it is you do."

"I'll accompany you."

Connor's look soured, but he made no complaint against it as he trudged down the hill towards his village and Desmond followed.

* * *

"Are you sure about leaving Washington?" Desmond asked, tailing Connor away from the General. "I mean, he could be a huge help if..."

"He is the reason why my mother is dead." Connor snapped, scowling at Desmond as he pointed back at the man. "I know the patriots need him, but I cannot help him any longer. That is twice now he has attacked my people. I...there is no need to be allied with the army any longer. Achilles was right. We do better working on our own."

Desmond frowned, but still reached out to pat the young man's shoulder, though Connor shied away from the touch. "I understand. Let's go."

* * *

"So if I want you to move five pegs I will say 'five to port' or 'five to starboard.' Understood?" Connor motioned for Desmond to take the helm. "Here. Let us try it out."

"Okay." Desmond took the wheel from Connor and felt the ship tug beneath his hands. "What's port and starboard again?"

"Port is left. Starboard is right."

"Right..." Desmond held on tight to the wheel, watching as the ship dipped and rose to the waves.

"Six to port." Connor ordered after a little while.

Desmond obeyed nervously.

"You have to repeat my command back to me." Connor instructed. "So I know you understood."

"Right."

"Two to port."

"Two to port."

It had been over a year since Connor had left the Continental Army to its own devices and they weren't as much at each other's throats as they had been. In fact, Connor was almost congenial lately, going so far as to teach Desmond how to man the ship while they steered towards Chesapeake Bay. Only a few days before, Achilles had passed on, but they hadn't been privileged with mourning him for long. Desmond felt Achilles sickness had driven Connor to grow closer to Desmond, as well as Ezio and Altair.

The latter two were further on the ship, helping the other sailors with manning the ship.

"I'll take over." Connor told Desmond after awhile and Desmond released the helm to him.

They were approaching port and Desmond wasn't ready for such a nerve-wracking venture.

"Double check our supplies." Connor instructed. "This is will be our last chance to stock."

Desmond knew they had plenty of ammo, but decided to obey without question. Approaching Isaac, who was in charge of supplies, he gave a hasty smile and asked about their stock.

"We've plenty." Isaac replied, smiling at Desmond.

"Good. Good." Desmond shifted on his feet, feeling awkward. "How's the family?"

"Great." Isaac's eyes brightened. "My little girl called me "da" for the first time the day we left. I hope she doesn't forget it by the time we get back."

Desmond grinned. "Me too."

Sometime later, as they set out amid the rubble of sinking ships and turbulent waves, Desmond cast a glance to the setting sun as it turned the sky a bloody red and silhouetted the approaching ships. He stared at the black sails for a moment before turning his attention to Isaac.

He never saw the man again.

* * *

**Getting so close to the end! My mind is in chaos trying to put the pieces together. I know how I want this story to end, but I don't know what I want to happen between now and the ending. XD **


	16. Lacrimas non Cadunt

Chapter Sixteen: _Lacrimas non Cadunt_

"You know," Desmond sheathed his sword with a snap. "I think you honestly loathe me."

"Really?" Connor seethed back.

"Yes, really." Desmond eyed Ezio standing some distance away as the Italian sighed in exasperation. "You are trying to get yourself killed, aren't you?"

"If you have a better suggestion to get to Lee, I am willing to listen." Connor turned to glare at Desmond. When the other didn't respond, his head rose in arrogance. "I thought not."

"There has to be another way." Desmond insisted. "Going in there while there are _cannons_ firing at you is suicidal!"

"I am well aware of that." Connor snapped back, stalking off the ship onto the dock of the New York Harbor.

"If we just think it through instead of rushing..."

"We do not have time." Connor hissed. "If we had time I would come up with a better solution, but we do not. I will kill Lee here. Either help me or get out of the way."

Desmond huffed, but seeing no alternative followed Connor into New York.

* * *

"Connor!" Desmond shouted above the din of guns and exploding canons. He waved away the smoke, coughed as it filled his lungs. "Ezio!"

"Des!" Ezio called from somewhere in the distance of the black haze. "Desmond!"

Glancing down, Desmond stared at the gaping wound in his side. Wincing, he pressed his hand to it as his breathing grew ragged. "Dammit..."

"Desmond Miles."

He turned and blinked furiously at the figure coming through the smoke.

"Ah, yes." Haytham paused, his smile mirthless and cold as he stared down at Desmond. "The Assassin who has helped all the great Assassins the past thwart the Templars every move. The Assassin from the future, am I correct? I've heard a lot about you. How you initially possess your victims and then become tangible. A bit of a problem for the Templar Order over the past few centuries. Not anymore, though."

Haytham's hidden blade flicked out and he moved to strike Desmond, but he managed to parry the attempt.

"Ah, you've become more formidable." Haytham grinned. "More so than when you were possessing me."

Desmond gritted his teeth. "Where's the key, Haytham?"

"So this is what you seek, is it?" Haytham shoved Desmond away and the wounded Assassin stumbled, leaning against a nearby workbench for support. "The key? Well, I'm afraid I don't have it. You'll have to search elsewhere."

"Fine." Desmond straightened. "I'll take it off of Lee's cold corpse."

This sparked a reaction as the man lunged at Desmond. He parried the attack, though barely, and slid around Haytham.

"Close to him?" Desmond asked, venom entering his voice. "Like a son when you've a perfectly good son you could have been a father to, but wouldn't put aside your pride."

"Surrender my beliefs for a lost cause?" Haytham shook his head as he drew his sabre. "I think not."

Desmond barely managed to draw his own sword and deflect the blow.

"And who are you to talk about getting close?" Haytham stabbed, but again was deflected. "Ezio? Altair? How close are you to them? Forget them. What about Heyreddin?"

Eyes flying wide, Desmond countered the next strike. "How do you know about him?"

"How do we know?" Haytham scoffed at Desmond as if he was a child. "You're from the future and you don't even know your history? How do you think we know of him? We captured him. Tortured him. Got as much information as we could from him. Then we killed him and made an example of him before the Assassins. That's how we know of him."

Desmond swung his weapon, every muscle tense. Logically, he knew Haytham had not been responsible for this as Heyreddin had been dead for two centuries at the least. Admittedly, he wasn't exactly thinking about such logic right now. His blade cut through the air with fierce accuracy, fueled by dangerous fury.

"Close to him?" Haytham almost sounded like he was teasing. "Like a brother? Or a lover? Would you like to know the report I read? How he screamed and squealed like a pig by the end despite how much he insisted he couldn't be broken? I bet you knew all about breaking him though. The details he went into...it was pretty amazing. It was from him we learned about your appearances. I always wondered if I would get a chance to meet you, but had thought my own part would be too small for you grace it. I guess I thought wrong."

Too enraged to think of a response, Desmond continued to hack at the man's blade, not even realizing he was doing nothing more than hit the man's blade. Exhaustion overtook his arm and the moves grew sluggish. Haytham easily slipped through the Assassin's defenses, knocking aside Desmond's blade and shoving the young man onto his back.

"Well, I guess your adventures end here." Haytham sneered.

Then his face was painted with surprise and pain. His eyes grew wide as he glanced back, startled, only to meet the face of his son, Connor.

Desmond watched the two as Connor withdrew his sword from the man's back only to drive his hidden blade deep into Haytham's throat. They were conversing, but Desmond couldn't understand them through the fog of his mind.

"Shaun..." He whispered, shuddering. "Pull me out..."

White streaked through the sky and he faded back into the modern era.

* * *

"You should rest a little longer." Shaun advised, eyeing Desmond's hand where it gripped his side.

"There's not even blood." Desmond argued. "I just had to get out of there before they worried over me. Send me back."

"It's the last bit." William said, looking at Desmond pointedly. "It's the homestretch. I'm sure of it."

"All the more reason to get back in there and finish this." Desmond gave Rebecca a thumbs-up. "Let's do this."

"Desmond." Shaun brought the Assassin's eyes to him. "I'm...sorry...about Heyreddin."

Desmond smiled a little, surprised by the kindness, but grateful for it. "Yeah...thank you...I'll...um...try not to let it bother me while we're..."

"If you need a moment..." Rebecca put in.

Breathing in, Desmond shook his head. "No...I need to focus. Thank you though."

"Ready when you are."

"I'm ready."

* * *

**GASP! We're so close to the end! :D I'm excited! I'll be glade to actually finish this story. XD **


	17. Etiam in Tenebris

**Wow! So many people are asking for a happy ending for Desmond! :D**

* * *

Chapter Seventeen: _Etiam in Tenebris_

"I'm fine." Desmond stood up, brushing away the grime of the battlefield. His eyes perused Connor. "Though you don't look it."

Connor frowned and Desmond immediately noticed the anguish reaching all the way to the young man's soul.

"I'm s..."

"No." Connor held up his hand. "Do not console me or I will be forced to console you over this Heyreddin."

Desmond's stomach tightened against his will. "Fair."

* * *

Desmond stared out the window of the homestead to where Connor was carefully shaving his head. He didn't like how much this made Connor look like an adult, no longer the boy who had been so humbly seeking their assistance. He wished stronger than he ever had before that he could have been more assistance to the young man. His stay in Istanbul was likely the source of this new found desire.

Turning away, he resisted grimacing, knowing it would worry Ezio and Altair. It was hard not to think of Heyreddin now when they had nothing else to do.

Ezio was sitting at the table, playing with his empty tankard, once filled with ale, and Altair stood at the other window, staring out it forlornly.

"The end is coming, isn't it?" Ezio asked disgustedly. "This little adventure will be over, won't it? You'll find the key, save your world, and Altair and I will go back to being dead."

Desmond grimaced at these words. "I don't know what will happen. Will you stay here? Or will you come with me? I don't even know how to bring you along anymore."

Altair shifted at his place by the window, but made no reply.

"Maybe we'll get to live another life." Ezio muttered. "But I'm not sure I want to. I miss Sofia. I miss my children. If I got the opportunity, I'd just go home...but I don't really fancy the thought of dying again either."

"Maybe, it won't be like that." Altair stated. "Maybe...we'll be born again...and try again."

This stilled Desmond's blood and Ezio perked to look at him.

"What?" Ezio gaped at the Syrian.

"We're young now..." Altair whispered. "Maybe we'll just start again."

"That's..." Ezio stood, anger in his action. "That's the stupidest idea you've had yet!"

"But it could happen." Altair faced the Italian. "It could happen and then Maria..."

Ezio threw his tankard at the Syrian. "You idiota! You're not going to get the chance! Don't get your hopes up! Don't raise our hopes!"

Desmond watched the Italian shudder with rage. "We've sinned! Our whole lives have been nothing, but sins! We don't get a second chance! We don't get the chance to try again! Okay! Okay!"

He stormed from the room just as Connor entered the house, fresh paint running down his cheeks.

"What..." Connor furrowed his brows at the two remaining Assassins. "What was that?"

"Nothing." Altair grumbled, leaning against the wall and staring out the window once more. "Just Ezio being childish."

Desmond wouldn't have called Ezio's reaction childish. They all hoped for second chances, but most didn't say these hopes aloud. Altair was snapping, Desmond figured, from the guilt of being responsible for his wife's death. He could only imagine how much Altair wanted to rewind time and stop himself from growing angry while in possession of the Apple.

"Are you ready?" Desmond asked, facing Connor.

"Yes." He nodded. "You?"

"As ready as I will ever be." Desmond sighed.

"Then let us sail for New York once more."

"Will you be coming?" Desmond asked, facing Altair.

"No." The Syrian shook his head. "I promised to help around the homestead. While we've been away, troubles been afoot."

"Right." Desmond glanced upward at the ceiling as if to Ezio before looking to Altair. "Tell him goodbye for us."

"I will."

* * *

"If it's not you saving me, it's me saving you." Desmond pulled the board off of Connor and then shuddered at the sight of blood. "Good god, Connor."

"I'm...fine..." Connor groaned, hand holding the piece of wood piercing his side. "Lee...I...need...to get...to Lee."

"You need to see a doctor." Desmond argued, pulling off his jacket. "Here, let me..."

"No!" Connor said forcefully and then, to Desmond's horror, pulled out the intrusive object. "I must kill Lee."

"Connor." Desmond pressed his jacket to the young man's side. "You're in no shape to be killing anyone."

"I will..." Connor sat up, determination in his features. "I will kill Lee."

"And it will be the last thing you do."

"So be it."

"Connor!"

"Quit whining." Connor used Desmond to get onto his feet. "I must do this and you know it."

Grudgingly, Desmond agreed. "But you should let me do it."

"No..." Connor growled. "I...should...do...it..."

"You are in no shape to." Desmond stated sternly as they exited the construction. "I will kill Lee. I know you want to and you have more right to than any person alive or dead, but now is not the time. I will do it. Understood?"

Connor looked about to argue again, but seemed to understand he wasn't fit to. "He will have taken the ferry. I shot him. He is wounded. You will not have to hunt him long."

"Thank you." Desmond helped Connor to sit on a barrel. "Get to a doctor when you are able."

With that, he rushed off to seek passage after Lee.

* * *

Lee watched the approaching Assassin, not entirely surprised, though the part of him which was only was because he hadn't expected the youth before him.

"So..." Lee grinned around the bottle as he lifted it to his mouth. "At least...I took one of you...with me."

"Connor is fine." Desmond stated, sitting down beside the man. There was no need to hurry. Lee was clearly on his death bed. "He'll live."

"Pity..." Lee set the drink down, glaring at it bitterly. "And you...Desmond...bane of us all."

"I like the sound of that." Desmond smirked lightly as his hidden blade unsheathed. "Any last words?"

Lee took another swallow of his drink, eyeing Desmond reproachfully. The bottle slammed to the table, tipped over, and spilled across the wooden surface.

"Go fuck yourself, you cocksucking bastard."

"Great choice."

Desmond drove the blade home.

* * *

"All I need to know is where you bury this." Desmond said as he and Connor stood in the parlor of the Davenport Manor. "And then...I'm afraid that will be goodbye."

"I am supposed to bury it where no one will think to look." Connor told him then hesitated. "I...think I know where."

"Show me." Desmond encouraged as Ezio and Altair looked on. "Show me where you are going to bury it."

* * *

"I know where he left it." Desmond said, getting out of the Animus. "Come on! We have to hurry!"

"Shaun's already warming up the van." Rebecca said as she tossed Desmond more time-appropriate clothing. "Change on the way."

* * *

This was it.

Desmond peered between Minerva and Juno.

"The decision's made." He said, looking at Minerva forcefully. "I'm sorry, but this is the best way."

"Desmond." She seemed like she couldn't believe he had done this, but she corrected her features. "Remember? Time doesn't flow. You merely step from one side to the other. It is not all it seems."

"I know." He stared at her. "You told me."

"This is the only way." Juno cut in. "You are running out of time, Desmond."

"Nothing is true; everything is permitted." Minerva said the words, her eyes nearly pleading. "Past, present, future? Who is to say they are so different? Who is to say time exists at all?"

"Desmond. The choice needs to be made now." Juno interrupted.

"You are the one who can change fate." Minerva told him. "And you know how. All you need to do is take my hand."

"If I..." He frowned. "No...there has to be a better way..."

"And there is." Juno insisted. "Free me and the world will survive! If you follow Minerva, the world will be destroyed and the calamity you saw before will be the future of this world!"

"You said, if you had time, Minerva." Desmond looked at the ethereal woman. "Than there was a way, but centuries of us being idiots and not knowing what to do is what made it impossible, right? So time-travel would be the answer? If someone went back in time and fixed it?"

"There isn't time, Desmond." Juno argued. "Time-travelling takes time!"

"There is a way." Minerva told him. "A single way, but you would have to trust me. You would have to let me help you."

"What way?"

"Desmond..." Shaun glanced around the room as the lights began to fade. "You may want to make your decision now."

Minerva held out her hand to him. "Trust me."

His eyes flicked between the two entities, not sure, but knowing he had no more time to decide.

"Ezio...Altair..." He whispered as he reached out his hand. "Please, let me be making the right decision."

His hand pressed to the glowing sphere and all went dark.


	18. Lux Inveniri Possint

**You honestly didn't think I'd leave it at that, did you? :P**

* * *

Chapter Eighteen: _Lux Inveniri Possint_

Desmond sat up, panting for breath and body shuddering from the panic that had welled up within him. He peered around frantically, at a loss for where he was in the foreign room. There was clothing littering the floor. The walls were plane and furnishings were sparse. His eyes rested on a desk chair in the corner where a white hoodie was draped over the back. Slowly, he adjusted to the relative darkness and realization dawned on him.

He was in his apartment back in New York City.

Grabbing his alarm clock from his nightstand, he peered at the time. In a few hours, he'd have to be at work. A frown formed quickly and he stood to cross the small room and flick on the light. Rubbing at his eyes, he pulled a calendar from his desk and stared at the crossed off dates. It was the day Abstergo kidnapped him according to his dream.

His stomach clenched and he wondered if it had been a dream. Could a single night have let him dream such a massive experience? He recalled Shaun saying something about the mind working faster than humans could imagine, but he still doubted he'd have had enough time to see such an experience.

Abruptly, he recalled something, a recurring theme from his dream and he yanked up his black shirt to stare at his side. His mouth dropped at the sight of a large scar from accumulated wounds inflicted on the spot.

It hadn't been a dream.

As soon as this thought sank in, he tugged on his sweatshirt and reached for a pair of socks. He had to get out of here before Abstergo showed up. If he didn't arrive for work, there was no doubt in his mind, they'd find him at his home. Briefly, he contemplated calling in sick at work, but decided this would alert Abstergo. Once dressed, he filled his backpack with minimal necessities (a few granola bars and some water) before rushing down the stairs. He slipped outside cautiously, pulling his hood over his head. With a glance at his motorcycle, he started off into the night. A vehicle was easier to trace and he didn't have to go far.

A few blocks later, he stopped at a payphone and dialed in, hoping the password had yet to be changed.

"This is Michelle's Cleaners and Full Service Laundry, open 24 hours, Michelle speaking. How can I help you?"

He cringed at the overly cheerful voice. "Um...Feathers and Rafiq."

There was silence and then he heard a tone. Relieved it seemed the passwords were still in place, he waited for the next step. The phone clicked, but no one answered. After a pause, he decided to just speak.

"Hey, um...you probably don't care what I have to say or anything. I mean, I've been gone all this time..." He felt stupid talking to one one in particular. "Look. I know what's going on. They are after me. I have...information. It could help, but I can't say it over a line. I don't know if they can hear me. Just...find me. I know you're watching. Just do it. And...I'm sorry...dad. I really am."

He hung up when he received no answer and hoped his message had gotten through. As he started away through the night, aiming for a subway station, he wondered if this next adventure would have as dismal an ending as his last and crossed his fingers despite not believing in such silly forms of luck.

Breathing the night air, he smiled a little as thoughts tickled his mind.

He hoped Altair had guessed right and they had been given a second chance, like he had. After all, he hadn't been able to give them a proper farewell like he had wanted, but perfection couldn't be expected in this world. All he could do was dream for something better.

This lifted his spirits as he melted into the night.

* * *

**Wooo. I finished it. I am contemplating writing a second story as a follow up for this, explaining what happens now that Desmond is aware of the future, but I'll need a break. :D Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this series as much as I did writing it! I can't wait for the next game to come out! Yay! Pirates! XD I'll eventually combine these chapters together, so they match the other chapters. :) I think it'll make the story seem nice and cleaned up. Speaking of cleaning up, I'll probably go back eventually and fix all my spelling/grammar errors later...much later. XD**

**For those who were wondering: Animus Vox means Voice of the Soul in Latin, so for this reason all the chapter titles are roughly translated sayings into Latin, most dealing with issues in that particular chapter. I will not be so arrogant as to say I didn't use Google translate, nor will I be so arrogant as to say these are not flawed translations. Since Latin is dead and still being deciphered by linguists, there isn't any sure way of knowing everything you put into the translator is getting translated correctly. I thought I'd tell you that. Oh, and Animus Vox is also the title of one of the Glitch Mob's songs, one I liked a lot, but didn't place the connection until a couple of days ago. XD lol...my silly mind. :D**

**Again! I hope you enjoyed the series and let me know if you think I should post a second story, detailing Desmond's adventures after this. Mind you, it will take me time to come up with an acceptable plot for it. :D**


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